


It's A Match

by MsDaHedgehog



Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, DNA results, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hostage Situations, Hurt/Comfort, Lies, Liz finds out the truth, Liz has had enough, Ressler's a good friend, Secrets, Tom Keen is not his name
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:28:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 49,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23452456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsDaHedgehog/pseuds/MsDaHedgehog
Summary: Originally posted on ff.net waaaaay back in 2014. Updates are coming!Set during and after 'The Kingmaker': After discovering the truth about Tom being an impostor and Reddington killing her father, Liz is determined to discover the truth about Reddingtons connection to her. Turning to the only person she can trust now, she and Ressler investigate the criminal and become closer to each other in the process.
Relationships: Elizabeth Keen & Dembe Zuma, Elizabeth Keen & Donald Ressler, Elizabeth Keen & Kate Kaplan, Elizabeth Keen & Raymond Reddington, Elizabeth Keen/Donald Ressler, Past Elizabeth Keen & Tom Keen
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

Elizabeth Keen was standing across from the one man who had betrayed her more than what her 'husband' had. In the heart-wrenching moment that Raymond Reddington had admitted to killing her father, the invisible barrier holding the remainder of Liz's world had come crashing down in pieces around her. After discovering the truth of Tom's deceit, she never thought she could be hurt like that by someone who was supposed to be close and care for her. However, as she stood there now, she realised just how wrong she had been. Silent tears had fallen, leaving trails of black mascara down her pale cheeks as she had listened to Reddington as he tried wholeheartedly to justify his killing Sam. Liz felt herself start to tremble partway through his explanation, but she had willed herself to stay composed, to not crumble as she listened to the criminal defend his actions.

She was aware of Dembe standing somewhere in the background behind her and she could sense the unease radiating from his body. His weight kept shifting from foot to foot through Reddingtons explanation, though she couldn't tell what opinion he actually had over his boss' actions. Liz was surprised he hadn't left the room when he was asked to when she first arrived, or maybe he had, and just silently returned to hear Reddington out without either of them realising. Then again, she knew that Dembe probably didn't trust her all that much, not that blamed him; the last time she had arrived at Reddingtons hotel suite this angry, she had put a pen through his neck. She hadn't been sorry then and she certainly wasn't sorry now. This time was different for her though; yes, she was angry, but it was the senses of hurt and betrayal that were dominant in her tonight. Liz didn't have it in her to physically hurt Reddington, but she did want him to suffer in some sort of way. She knew Reddington had a connection to her; she didn't yet know what that was, but she knew there was something. Liz knew that cutting herself off from him would make him suffer and she'd had enough; she didn't want anything more to do with him. She'd threatened to be done with him before, but this time felt different... this time she knew too much had happened and there was no going back for her.

"We're done, I'm done... this ends right now..." She could feel a sob rising as she spoke, and her voice caught in her throat as she tried to stifle it. The two of them had achieved so much together in the ten long months it had been since he had first sought her out, but it all seemed redundant to her now. Right now, she wished Raymond Reddington had stayed off the grid and out of her life; she wished there was never a reason for their paths to have ever crossed. Liz looked at him now, purposely making eye contact to show that she was serious this time. She saw the obvious hurt visible in his eyes, but she didn't care for his feelings. As far as she was concerned, Reddington had no right to feel anything in regards to her anymore. As she turned slowly and headed to the door, she registered that the criminal had shifted his position slightly to reach his hand out as if to try and stop her. It was at this movement that Liz turned her head to look back at him.

"God, you're a monster." Her voice was barely an audible whisper but when he retracted his out-stretched hand, she knew that he had indeed heard her. All Liz could do now was hope that he had actually gotten the message and agree to stay away from her this time. She gave Dembe one last, small sad nod before finally leaving the suite.

Once the door had slammed closed with a loud bang behind her, she walked quickly down the stairs before all but sprinting to her car, not wanting to risk breaking down in front of all the people now gathered in the hotels previously empty lobby. One minute Liz was sitting in her car without the engine running and the next, she was hesitantly walking through the front door to her empty house, not knowing how exactly she had gotten there. Liz made sure the door was shut safely behind her before she walked into the centre of her living room and surveyed the space around her. Her eyes skated over the broken furniture and splinters of wood, shattered glass and crumpled photos; all tainted with lies and deceit. The memory of the fight with Tom was still fresh in her mind’s eye and as she thought about everything that had gone on in the last few months, Liz sank to her knees, her body overcome with emotion.

She stayed like that for nearly an hour before the tears seemed to dry up. Liz was both physically and emotionally exhausted from the events of the past few days, but she didn't want to just sit there staring at her damaged apartment. She got slowly to her feet and made her way to the kitchen to grab a couple of garbage bags and started to bag up all the broken glass. After only being at it for a few minutes, Liz jumped back into a standing position, clutching her left hand in her right and cursing in pain.

"Fuck!" Fresh tears of pain sprung to Liz's eyes as she examined her hand, which was now oozing blood; a sharp, inch long piece of glass had embedded itself into her palm. She made her way back in the kitchen, to the sink, and ran her hand under the cold water to try and clean the wound. Removing her hand from the stream, she grabbed a dish cloth and gently dabbed it dry before gritting her teeth, gripping the end of the shard and yanking it free from the flesh of her palm.

"Shit, that's gonna scar... as if I need another one." She groaned to herself as she re-wrapped her hand with the dish cloth and stumbled around the kitchen looking for the small first aid kit she knew Tom had kept somewhere in there. Reaching into the cupboard under the sink, she managed to locate the small bag amongst some of the cleaning products. Undoing it somewhat awkwardly, she emptied it on the counter before cursing at its sparse contents - there wasn't a single bandage or gauze pad in sight. With no other option, Liz was left with trying to stem the blood and clean the wound as best she could before grabbing a new dish cloth and wrapping that round her hand and using a safety pin from the medical kit to secure it in place.

Sighing to herself again, Liz took one more look at what used to be her dining room before leaving the kitchen and heading up the stairs to the bathroom. Finding a couple of painkillers in the cabinet, she hastily swallowed them and splashed some water on her face in an attempt to tone down the puffiness from her crying. In the ten minutes she stood at the sink, Liz had scrubbed off the mascara trails and the grime from the day’s events and stared at herself, wondering what she had ever done to deserve the life she had?

Tom had been inserted into her life for reasons unbeknownst to her. To this day she still didn't know all the details surrounding the fire that killed her father and lead to her being adopted by Sam. One thing she was sure of though, was that somehow, Raymond Reddington was involved. Why or how she didn't know, but she sure as hell was going to find out.

She needed to talk to someone. Someone to let it all out to. Someone that she trusted. A friend...

Deciding that she couldn't stay in the house any longer, Liz headed to the bedroom, pulled a duffle bag from the closet and stuffed it with a good few days’ worth of clothes and necessities. She didn't want to make it easy for Tom to trace her from now on, so she took all the emergency cash they had saved together from a box hidden in the back of the spare bedroom closet. Counting it, she hadn't realised that they had accumulated nearly three thousand dollars but that was more than enough to book her into a cheap motel for a few nights.

Leaving her wedding and engagement rings on what had been 'Tom's' (what else was she supposed to call him?) nightstand and left the bedroom with the duffle bag slung over her shoulder. Even though the house was packed with things, things that helped make her life what it was, the house felt empty and silent and it was almost like she had no place being there. Passing past the pictures hanging on the walls, the memories from them felt alien to her now. She reached the front door, and after taking one last, lingering look at the damaged living and dining room, she turned off the light and left the house, locking the door behind her.

Liz jogged down the steps in front of the house and stalked towards her car. Heaving the duffle into the boot, she contemplated where to go. The more she thought about it, the more she realised that whoever she talked to had to know a little about her relationship with Reddington and about the suspicions surrounding Tom all those months ago. That ruled out most people. Taking all that into account, she came to the conclusion that she needed to talk to someone from the bureau, and as much as she like Cooper, she knew he wouldn't give her a chance to fully explain all the details before hauling her ass in for questioning. She felt that she could go to Aram for help with most things, but she got the feeling that he wouldn't be able to help her now; plus she felt his unease with doing something for her off the books. As for Meera, she wasn't that close to her and Liz knew she would feel guilty for pulling her away from her husband and children - she already had limited time with them; it would be unfair to limit that time further. That left one person...

"Ressler..."

Jumping behind the wheel, Liz started the car and made the half hour journey to her partners apartment. Why hadn't she thought of him first? He was her partner for Christs sake. Ever since she was kidnapped and held by the Stewmaker, the partnership between them had evolved from that of just colleagues to that of friends. He was probably one of the closest people to her at this moment in 'd had their disagreements, don't get her wrong, but no matter what happened between them, there was an unspoken understanding that whatever the situation may be, they would always have each other’s back. She had been there in the forest with him, watched as he battled over whether or not to kill Bobby Jonica, talked him out of the action that would end his career and land him in prison. She had visited most days after work during his two weeks compassionate leave, drove him to and from Audrey’s funeral (even if she did wait in the car). He knew all about Reddington - well most of it - he had hunted the man for five years after all. As for Tom, Ressler knew that she and him were having problems, he'd even offered to 'rough him up' for her once and Liz smiled at the memory. She knew that after all the trouble during the Gina Zanetakos case and Tom’s possible involvement, Ressler never did trust Toms innocence - and he had been right.

Parking the car in an available spot outside Resslers apartment, Liz checked her phone again, noting that it was nearly ten past eleven. Would he even still be awake? Maybe he would... they'd been given the weekend off. No matter how much Liz needed a friend, she just couldn't move herself from the car. She thought about what she was going to say, and she found she had fresh tears rolling down her face. Breathing deeply, she pulled herself from the car and traipsed to Resslers apartment and stood, slumped slightly, outside his door. Taking one last deep breath, she knocked and not even a minute later the door was pulled open in front of her, her partners face laced with concern. She didn't even realise she was speaking until she heard herself finish.

"I didn't know where else to go."


	2. Chapter 2

Raymond Reddington was left feeling strangely empty once Liz had departed his hotel suite. There were very few things in his life that Reddington had come to regret and having to end Sam’s life was at the top of the short list. In truth, any action that caused Lizzie some form of pain, whether it be physical or emotional, was an action he regretted but unfortunately, a large portion of the time it was unavoidable. Protecting Elizabeth Keen was, and always had been, his number one priority. From this moment onwards, and until Lizzie was ready to forgive him, he would once again have to return to protecting the young Agent from the shadows.

There were certain things, certain _secrets_ , that Elizabeth Keen did not need to know about, at least some of them not yet. It was prudent that she be kept in the dark about the greatest event in her life to date and how it came about. If Raymond had let Sam see Lizzie one last time, he would have divulged the truth about how she came to be his adopted daughter, and that was a truth he rathered she never know. That wasn't a big request was it? It was better, no, _safer_ , for her not to know the event surrounding the fire when she was four years old.

Reddington heard light movements somewhere behind him but he didn't bother to turn his body around as Dembe approached him. He was slightly irked that his faithful bodyguard had failed to give him the much needed time alone with Lizzie but at the same time he didn't blame the man. Dembe had done so much for him over the years. The younger man hadn't been there when Lizzie had attacked him with a pen all those months ago but Reddington had been forced to tell him about it after he witnessed him give a small, involuntary flinch when the Agent walked past him with one in her hand after an argument. Since hearing the story, Reddington had noticed how reluctant Dembe had been when it came to leaving the two alone in a room, and he couldn't help but smile at the thought. Dembe was one of barely a handful of people who knew the truth about Reddingtons connection to Elizabeth, having helped him protect her a fair few times. He had once told Reddington, when asked, that as much as he didn't agree with some of the things the Concierge of Crime did, he had to admit that keeping Elizabeth in the dark was the best possible thing for her.

"Raymond, I am sorry for what went on here tonight."

Reddington finally turned to face Dembe. He studied the face of the man who was probably one of his only true friends. Dembe's face was one of pure sympathy and Reddington smiled sadly back at him.

"My dear man, there is nothing that you have to be sorry for. No, everything that has happened here has been my fault, and mine alone. I'm afraid I have pushed Lizzie too far tonight, and that is something I must deal with." Dembe continued to stare at Reddington as he spoke. "I will need someone to watch her, will you make the necessary arrangements with one of our most trusted associates? Offer double the usual price and I will require regular updates. Be sure to tell him I require his services immediately, and if he is not available, move to the next. Whoever takes the job will need to find her so I suggest tracking her cell as she most likely will not have returned to her home. There is a strong possibility that she will have gone to someone whom she trusts. Dembe, be sure to make my instructions clear. I will not tolerate slip-ups."

Dembe stared at the fire in Reddingtons eyes before leaving him standing alone in the room, pulling his phone out as he did so. Reddington waited until the soft click of the door closing sounded before he walked over and grabbed his long forgotten tumbler of whiskey. He stared longingly into the still blazing fire, thinking about Lizzie. He wished he could have Dembe watch out for her, but he needed the man's services for himself, but he trusted Dembe's thoughts on a suitable candidate. He wasn't willing to guess how long it would take Lizzie to start talking to him again, but he was certain that she would. He knew there was a high chance that she would never actually forgive him for what he had done but he hoped that in time she would come to understand.

Glancing at the large clock hanging from the wall opposite, he wondered what was taking Dembe so long. In his mind, the phone call should have taken a few minutes at most but Dembe had been gone almost ten. Reddington needed to make sure Lizzie was safe, and the longer he didn't know where she was, the more danger she would be in. He silently decided to wait another five minutes and if Dembe still hadn't reappeared, he would take over

He kept his eyes fastened on the clock, slowly slipping his whiskey as he waited. It wasn't until there was barely a minute left of the five that Dembe came walking back into the room.

"Well?"

Dembe stayed by the door, knowing he would be dismissed after giving Reddington the information he needed. "Salvador is tracking Agent Keen as we speak."

Reddington raised an eyebrow. "You went with Salvador?"

"I called both the German and the Englishman, neither were willing to work with you again, Raymond."

Reddington was slightly amused at the revelation. "Really, well that is a shame. I suppose Roger still holds me responsible for him losing his job at MI6." Dembe nodded. "Now that is something I will have to rectify at a later date. For now, I think it's best you turn in, there's nothing left for you to do tonight. Leave the phone."

Dembe walked over and placed the phone on the small table next to where Reddington was now sitting, then left the room. Reddington wasn't sure how long he had sat nursing the remainder of his drink, but it seemed like hours before the phone started ringing next to him. He studied the caller ID for a brief moment before answering the phone.

"Salvador, what do you have for me?"

" _Straight to the point as always, Reddington. I do not get a hello no?_ " The man's Italian accent had faded somewhat since they had last spoken, nevertheless, his arrogant tone remained firm.

"My apologies. Hello Salvador. Now, what do you have for me?"

The man chuckled on the other end of the line _. "I tracked you girl to her home. Dembe, as organised as always, gave me a list of possible addresses. She left her home with a large duffle bag, packed it in her car and drove to an apartment building which I believe houses one Donald Ressler. She went in ten minutes ago - without the bag - and has yet to re-emerge. Would you like me to update you on her movements by text or do you wish to actually talk to me?"_

"If her movements signal danger then call, otherwise a text will suffice. Until then, I bid you good night."

Redington ended the phone call feeling ever so slightly relieved that Lizzie had sought comfort in Agent Ressler. He had observed their budding partnership ever since Donald had taken care of her after ordeal with 'The Stewmaker'. They had had their moments but at the end of the day, like true partners, they had each other’s backs. On top of that, Reddington had noticed how increasingly watchful Donald had become of Lizzie as her problems with Tom became more prominent. Oh, he was sure Donald didn't know exactly what was going on, but like the good agent he was, he knew there was something. He doubted that Lizzie would leave Resslers residence tonight, more for the fact that he knew Donald would convince her to stay if she was upset. Reddington replaced his tumbler on the small table and headed to the bathroom, phone in hand, with the intention of getting ready for bed.

It wasn't long before he was settled in his king size bed, kitted out in silk pyjamas and plumped up by an army of pillows. Sleep would not come easy for him tonight, but at least he would be comfortable.


	3. Chapter 3

"I didn't know where else to go.”

In the three seconds it took Liz to speak her sentence, Ressler's agent instincts had instantly started to kick in; he registered the level of hurt and desperation in his partner's voice. In those same three seconds, plus an extra two observing, he had noticed the puffy and blotchy skin around the area of her eyes; he had been drawn straight to them the moment he opened the door. As they stood there, fresh tears started to build up along her eyelashes and Ressler had the sudden desire to pull her to his side and comfort her. But he didn't. Instead, he nodded his head slightly in understanding, moved to the side and motioned with his hand for her to come in. As she walked past him and into his apartment, Ressler scanned back through his mind and, over the last ten months, there were only two people he could think of that could reduce her to this state - Tom Keen and Raymond Reddington.

She may never had been in his apartment before, yet he observed how she moved through it to the living room with ease. Ressler followed her after closing the front door but stopped to look at her when he noticed her staring at the coffee table. His half-drunk bottle of beer, that says newspaper and the T.V. control were abandoned upon it in his haste to answer the door not two minutes ago. She looked up to him when she could no longer hear him move and her voice shook as she spoke.

"You're busy. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come. I-"

"Sit down, Keen. You want a beer?"

"No thanks," she held up the car keys that were still gripped in her had. "I'm driving."

She sat down on the furthest end of the couch, with Ressler joining her a few seconds later. They sat in silence for a few minutes; Ressler waiting patiently for her to be ready to talk and Liz was nervously twitching, having an inner debate on how to start. Finally, after five solid minutes of silence, Ressler spoke.

"Keen, talk to me. There's something wrong and I know it has something to do with your husband or Reddington. I know you asked Aram to run some form of search under the radar this morning. I'm your partner, you can tell me anything, that's what I'm here for."

"I know," Liz finally looked up at him, fresh tears finally from her swollen eyes and down her cheeks. "And that's why I'm here. I need someone I can trust, someone who will listen to the full story but won't judge without knowing and understanding all the facts."

Ressler stared at her in bewilderment and it wasn't until she pleaded him with her eyes that he nodded to give her the go ahead.

"You're right when you say that's what's wrong involves Tom, but that's only one problem. Reddington has also played a large part. So what problem that's ruining my life would you like to hear first?"

"Tom, definitely Tom. I get the feeling Reddingtons part will take more time."

She nodded, took a deep breath and started her explanation.

"We were all wrong about him. He wasn't innocent after all. The gun, the money, the passports - they were all his. Tom Keen is an alias, always has been. My whole marriage, the last four years of my life has been a lie. I don't know if he's a spy, a secret agent or what." She paused for a moment to wipe the tears away and briefly look at Ressler. He was still staring at her, only now his mouth was open slightly in shock. He gave her a curt nod to continue. "I found out the truth, well part of it, a couple of weeks ago. He didn't know though and I did some investigating. But he grew suspicious, something alerted him to the fact I knew, and he ran. I didn't know where he was, until I returned home from work two nights ago and he was tied to one of the chairs in the dining room, being guarded by none other than the Pavlovich brothers - courtesy of our favourite neighbourhood criminal. We talked, I screamed, we fought, and he got away. The downstairs of my house now contains no usable furniture. Tom was placed in my life by someone named Berlin, and the reasoning? Reddington."

She wiped the tears with the back of her hand. Ressler wanted to shout at her for not telling anyone, for not telling him, before. But she said she needed someone who would hear all the facts, and that's what he was going to do.

"What led you to figure it out?"

Liz was relieved, she thought he was going to berate her for not telling anyone. "Since first finding the box, I guess I never fully trusted him. I mean he was tied up, beaten and stabbed by Zamani, and as much as I wanted him to be alright, I couldn't help wondering why Zamani chose to attack him. I'd already been told by Reddington when I stabbed him that if he died, I'd never find out the truth about Tom. I should have taken that threat a little more seriously, considering he was right. When I sent the bullet to ballistics, I convinced myself there was nothing to it, that it was just a gun hidden under my floorboards. But then I found out about Victor Folken and we faced Gina Zanetakos, and everything pointed to Tom, a part of me wasn't even surprised. When it was proved that Tom was innocent and it was all Gina, I found that I couldn't trust him, something in me refused to believe he had nothing to do with it." She sniffed and Ressler passed her a box of tissues from the side table. Liz blew her nose before continuing. "Thanks. A couple of weeks ago, a woman, a 'work colleague' of Tom's went missing. Her name was Jolene Parker; she'd been in my house, Ressler, I got to know her, or at least I thought I did. I did my own research into her disappearance and tracked her movements to a warehouse. I looked around a bit, it looked like some sort of base; guns, plans, there was a board that had pages and pages of stuff ripped off of it and the papers were burning in a bucket outside."

"What does this have to do with your husband?"

"I'm getting there. There was someone there, hiding in the shadows. He attacked me, knocked me down and escaped. When the detective in charge of Jolene's case got there, I told him what I'd found and asked him to keep me in the loop - which he did. I got home and he's emailed me the photos of the scene, there was one of the trash and that's when I realised."

"Realised what?"

"That it was Tom."

"How could you possibly realise it was Tom from a picture of a pile of trash?"

"There was a toy. A stupid little educational toy they give to third graders. It was there in the trash under some crumpled paper and coffee cups. Ressler, I'd given Tom that toy that morning. I hadn't tracked Jolene's cell to her warehouse, I had tracked her to Tom's." She sniffed again and sighed. "There was a piece of paper outside that wasn't completely turned to ash, it had 'Berlin' written on it, at the time I wasn't sure whether it meant person or place but now I know that it's the name of the person who hired Tom."

Ressler sat there, wide mouthed and shocked to say the least. He had no idea what Liz had been going through the past few weeks. He know she had been dealing with a few things (he'd covered for her enough times to notice something wasn't right), he just assumed it had something to do with pulling out of the adoption. He was her partner, he should have noticed signs telling him it was something much, much bigger.

"Why didn't you tell me? You didn't have to go through this alone, I would've helped in any way I could."

"I know, but you had your own stuff going on, and I was already asking too much of you to cover for me every day. I felt like it was something I had to do on my own; he was my husband; therefore he was my problem. I didn't want to get you involved until I had to, and I guess that's now."

"I'm your partner, Keen, I'll always have your back, whether you like it or not. You know what you have to do now though right?"

"Yeah," she looked up at him and give him a weak smile through her tears. "I need to call it in. First, though, will you go to the house with me tomorrow? I think you'd benefit from seeing it."

"Okay and I'll stay whilst they process it."

"Thanks."

"You sure you don't want that beer? You can have the couch tonight. I'm sure explaining Reddington's part in this will take a while, and I don't like this idea of you finding somewhere for the night." He gave her his best 'agent' look and Liz let out a small laugh before nodding.

"Okay, hit me. You're right though, there's a fair bit to say about Reddington."

Ressler left her sitting on his couch as he headed towards the kitchen to grab two cold beers from the refrigerator. Liz waited patiently for him to return, absentmindedly tapping her foot to some offbeat rhythm until he came back. She took her beer with a quiet thanks and gulped down half of the bitter cold liquid before suppressing what would have been a fairly loud belch. Ressler didn't prompt her to continue talking, knowing that she would do so in her own time. It only took her one more small sip of beer before she started talking again.

"Okay. Alright, so, Reddington. God, Ressler, that man is some form of devil. He's at the centre of everything bad that has happened since, well, probably since I was born. There's a connection between us, we all know that. We pretty much figured that out the day he turned himself in, and ten months later he still refuses to tell me. I'm sure Dembe knows; the way he looks at me, it's like he's challenging me to ask him. You've read my file right?"

Ressler nodded. "Yeah, I have. I know that you were adopted at the age of four and that you were in a fire but there wasn't much detail."

"Yeah, yeah there was a fire, it's how I got the scar on my wrist." She held out her hand to him. He took it and held it in his own, turning her palm over to examine it clearly. He'd never seen it properly before; she always kept it hidden, rarely showing it to anyone. He knew that she rubbed it subconsciously when she was nervous or upset and he'd seen her looking down at it sometimes when a case was really tough. It ran from the centre of her palm, along the inside of her wrist and continued an inch up her arm. He hated to think of the pain it must have caused, considering she was less than five years old at the time. He released her hand and she placed it back in her lap, using her other to shield it from further view.

"I don't remember much from that night; I can see flames, remember the heat but nothing else. I escaped it with a burnt wrist and a stuffed toy. I was adopted after that, placed with Sam. He was all I had, the only person in the world until Tom came along. When Sam died, it was like a bullet to the heart. You were with me when Tom called, saw how broken I was." Ressler nodded but didn't comment. He remembered that day clearly, she wasn't even able to fly out to the dying man and say goodbye. "Reddington comforted me you know? Invited me to the house he was staying at because he didn't want me to be alone. Tom was still in Nebraska and couldn't get a return flight until the next afternoon. I thought Reddington was being nice, showing that he could be something more than a criminal mastermind. But I was wrong. He didn't care about me and my feelings, not really. All he cared about was trying to rid himself of the guilt he felt for my father dying."

"Why? Because he gave us the General Ludd case? He wasn't to know that you wouldn't be able to get him. Reddington couldn't have known that planes would have been grounded." Ressler shook his head, not believing that Reddington was involved in something so painful for the one person he so obviously cared about.

"But that's just it, Ressler, he did know. He knew everything, he set it all up. He knew exactly what would happen. He gave us that case knowing that it would keep me away from my father. He stopped me from seeing Sam... so he could..."

"How do - "

"Tom. Tom gave me the information."

Ressler was confused. He had no idea what to think. "How do you know he wasn't lying to you? How can you trust what he says?" He looked up at her and was startled by the heavy flow of silent tears streaming down her face. He picked the box of tissues back up and inched closer to her on the couch before placing it in her hands. There was a lot more to this than he thought. She dabbed at her eyes to stem the flow before wiping the water marks from her cheeks. When she spoke again, her voice was broken and had lost a significant level of volume.

"It wasn't what Tom told me... it was what he _showed_ me. I found a key hidden in a lamp stand; I'd seen Tom hide it there when I watched the video footage from the cameras placed in our hou-"

"What cameras?" Ressler interrupted her, apparently there was a lot about his partners life he didn't know about.

"Oh, you don't know... that's something I'll have to explain after, okay?" He nodded and she continued. "After our fight the other night, Tom revealed that he knew I'd found his key and told me that it was to a safety deposit box. He said that I shouldn't trust Reddington and that the box would give me all the answers I needed. Truth is it gave me a hell of a lot more questions than answers." She dabbed at her eyes again.

"What was in it?"

"A photo. A photo alerting me to the fact that Reddington was at the hospital that day my father died."

She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the now folded photo of Red leaving the hospital. Ressler took it and studied the image for a few seconds. There was no doubt in his mind that it was Reddington in the photo - he knew that fedora anywhere.

"The photo could be a fake. Tom could have fabricated the while thing to turn you against Reddington?"

"That's what I thought. This is what I had Aram run. He searched security footage from in and around the hospital and he proved that Reddington was indeed there, and in my father’s room an hour before he died."

"So maybe the whole feeling of guilt was because, for whatever reasoning, he got to see Sam and you didn't?"

"No." Liz swallowed down another mouthful of beer. "I confronted him. I was so confused as to why he was even there. He knew my father; he knew Sam from years ago. Never had he mentioned to me that he knew No. four on the FBI's most wanted list. He was in my father’s room and... Ressler... he killed me father."

Her hand flew to her mouth as she started sobbing again. Ressler was frozen with the shock of her revelation. It couldn't be true. Why would Reddington kill her father? Maybe she had gotten it wrong...

"Look, Keen, maybe you've gotten it wrong. Didn't you say that he was there an hour before Sam died? How could he have killed him if he had already left?"

"I thought that's what happened. Whilst we were busy chasing down the Kingmaker, Aram took it upon himself to dig further into my father’s death. He called me a couple of hours ago to tell me that... that he'd called the hospital, spoke to the attending that pronounced Sam and... and my father died almost an hour before they found him. He would have died when Reddington was in his room."

"Keen, that doesn't mean -"

"Yes it does." She stared at him through her tears, feeling herself falling apart again piece by piece.

"How?" Ressler almost whispered to her, not sure exactly what he was supposed to say.

"Because he admitted it to me."


	4. Chapter 4

"Because he admitted it to me."

She broke down, crying uncontrollably into her hands, her body shaking. Ressler froze and watched on as his partner fell apart in front of him. He couldn't believe that he had sat there and actually been rooting for Reddington to be innocent when it came to the death of her father. Had five years of chasing him to the four corners of the Earth and the past ten months of working alongside him and getting to know exactly how he works not taught him anything? Ressler honestly thought that ever since he had handed himself in, and most likely before that day, when it came to Elizabeth Keen, Reddington did all in his power _not_ to hurt her, not to do exactly that and destroy all aspects of her life. Never, in his time working with her, had Ressler seen her so broken before, sure he'd seen her cry and he'd been there to comfort her after her ordeal with Stanley Cornish. But he'd handed her off to an EMT at the first available opportunity, not wanting things to become awkward between them. This was different. This was her left broken after the ultimate act of betrayal and this time he would be there for her as long as she needed him.

"Liz..."

Ressler shifted along the couch until he felt her leg pressed up against his own. Her body continued to shake as he threw his arm around her shoulders and tugged her gently, encouraging her to lean against him. She fought it at first but gave in when he tugged that little bit harder and eventually her head found his shoulder after a few minutes. He rested his cheek against her hair as he silently comforted his broken partner. He wasn't sure how much time had passed before the shaking of her body seemed to calm down and the tears that were flowing from her eyes started to slow. Ressler felt Liz pull away from him slightly and he let her. He reached over her to grab the box of tissues she'd placed on the arm of the couch and handed them back to her. When Liz looked up to him and gave him a silent thanks, it was then he saw how red raw her eyes were from crying. Ressler pushed himself up from the couch and walked into the bathroom, grabbed one of the spare face cloths from under the sink and rinsed it with warm water before going back to the living room and handed it to Liz.

"This will work better than the tissues, and it'll be kinder to your face." He took his seat back next to her as she wiped her face with the cloth; it was such a simple gesture from him, but he knew it would mean a lot to her. He wasn't used to being the one that had to take care of her wounds (physical or otherwise), it was always the other way around between them.

"Thanks. Sorry I- I'm such a mess. I didn't mean to come here and unload all of this on you, I just n-"

"Needed someone you could trust and be honest with. I get it, Liz, you don't have to apologise. I'm just returning the favour from when you were my shoulder to cry when... when Audrey died." It had been a few months now since his girlfriend’s death, but it still wasn't the easiest subject to talk about.

"Yeah." She folded the face cloth and pressed it against her face again. "I just don't know what to do anymore. I can't be around Reddington anymore, not after this. Too much has happened this time. All I ever wanted was to have a normal life and look at me, a failed marriage to an imposter and a completely dysfunctional relationship with a notorious criminal. I feel like I have nothing left."

Well that stung a bit and Ressler wasn't entirely sure why. "Hey, you have me, you have the task force, you can start again."

She smiled sadly at him. "I know I do. But if I was to refuse to work with Reddington, hand in my resignation and leave, there'll be no task force. Meera will go back to the CIA, Aram will go back to wherever they brought him in from and you... you..." She wasn't sure what would happen to him.

"I would go back to trying and failing to catch Reddington. Not the greatest but there's no guarantees on that happening. We've done so much in the last ten months, saved an untold amount of people and put God knows how many behind bars, it's your choice what happens next. You know we'll all support you in whatever you choose to do."

She took his hand and squeezed in lightly. He squeezed back and neither let go. There hadn't been much physical contact between them unless necessary, but it didn't feel strange or awkward, it felt normal.

"It's something I'm really going to have to think about isn't it?" He nodded and she sighed. "He killed my father and he's the reason Tom was put in my life. I'll never be able to forgive him, never. But I know that if I cut him off, keep him away, then I'll never come to know the truth. I just don't know... Damn fucking bastard!" She slammed her head against their intertwined hands.

Ressler felt sorry for Liz; she'd been through so much in her life and Reddington had made things so much worse. When he'd first met her on her doorstep the morning Reddington handed himself in, it looked like she had the perfect life; a husband that loved her, a baby on the way, starting a new job that she was destined to love, only for it all to be ripped apart the moment she had been forced to meet with the criminal.

"Sleep on it. You don't have to make a decision now, think about it overnight and decide in the morning. We have a lot to do tomorrow with your house and everything. See how that goes and then make a decision on whether you can do it. But right now, I want you to tell me about the cameras you said were in your house."

Liz froze briefly before turning to face Ressler. She finally released his hand and they both noticed the loss of warmth from its removal but neither of them mentioned it. She grabbed another tissue from the box and wiped the few remaining tears away before starting to attempt to explain about the cameras planted in her house.

"They'd been in there for months. I watched all the footage and it only started when Tom returned from the hospital so they must have been planted whilst he was at physio or something. God, Ressler, there was camera in _every_ room. The guys who set them up were watching _everything_. They watched me shower, watched me and Tom... having sex. I only found out about the cameras after Anslo Garrick infiltrated the Post Office. Aram worked his magic and traced some phone calls that were made from an address across from mine and when I went to investigate I found the footage playing on the computers. They were searching for information on Reddington, they listened in on phone conversations and used what they heard to guess when he would be at the Blacksite and passed the details on to Garrick." She paused briefly before continuing. "After I figured out the truth about Tom, I watched the footage back and that's when I found they key hidden in the bottom of the lamp. I watched him go back and forth to it a few times and when we fought a couple of nights ago, he already knew that I had it and told me it was to a safety deposit box and that I should go to it. I did and that's when I found the photo of Reddington exiting the hospital the day my father died. You know what happened from there."

Ressler nodded but didn't say anything. People had been watching Liz during her most intimate moments and he was angry. Something inside him stirred but he wasn't sure what it was. Liz was his partner, his friend yet he felt far more protective over her than he should. He grasped her hand again and pulled her back against his side, touched his lips to the top of her head so lightly that he knew she wouldn't have felt it.

"What happened to the people who set up the cameras?" If they wasn't already dead he'd hunt them down himself.

"Gone. Well, the guy who was in the house when I went over there is dead, I killed him. I don't know if there was anybody else but I'm pretty sure Reddington would have already dealt with them, seeing as I used his clean up lady to dispose of the body."

She sniffed and he grinned internally. He was glad that she'd gotten revenge on at least one of the men spying on her.

"Good. Look, why don't you try and get some sleep? I'll find you something to sleep in to save you going down to your car and you can take a shower if you want. I'm pretty sure I have some clean towels in the hall closet."

He felt her nod against his chest and her small voice floated up to him. "Sounds good. Thanks, Don."

He grinned at the use of his first name. He didn't think that in the whole time they'd worked together she'd ever used it. He gently encouraged Liz to move with him as he made to get up. She moved just enough for him to stand up before sitting back down to remove her boots. As he made his way to the closet in the search for towels, she headed to the front door and placed her boots neck to his shoes. He pulled out two towels for her and handed them to her, knowing that she'd want a separate one if she did her hair.

"Bathrooms down the hall, I'll find you some sweats or something and leave them in the bedroom okay?"

"Sure." She gave him a small smile before heading off to the bathroom. He waited until he could hear the shower running before passing by to go to his bedroom. He headed straight to his dresser and searched the bottom draw for an old pair of sweats that he usually used to work out in. He also found one of his smaller, thinner t-shirts and laid the two items on his bed. He thought that maybe Liz would feel more comfortable wearing a sweater over the top seeing as it would be fairly cold in the morning and the tee itself was quite thin. The only problem was that he couldn't find one. He checked the dresser and his closet but turned up empty. Surely they couldn't all be in the wash? Unfortunately, the laundry hamper happened to be in the bathroom so he couldn't check. He heard the shower stop and the bathroom door open but before he could leave the bedroom, Liz appeared in the doorway. She was wearing nothing, but a towel wrapped round her body and one round her head, the clothes she had been wearing folded neatly in her hands. Ressler's mouth went dry looking at her bare legs. The towel was a little short but still long enough to be considered decent. That didn't stop him staring though. He looked her up and down before clearing his throat and looking away. He gestured to the clothes on his bed as he started talking.

"I, ugh, found these for you. I tried to find you a sweater too but came up empty. I'll leave you to get dressed and have another look." She smiled up at him again but didn't meet his eye. He could sense that she felt a little embarrassed standing there in front of him in nothing but a towel, so he left the room quickly and closed the door behind him. He was so used to seeing her in pant suits that having her standing before him with so much flesh on show was quite a shock. He went to the bathroom and checked the laundry hamper and found almost all the sweaters he owned in there. He really needed to keep on top of things. He went back to the living room and found Liz sitting cross legged on the couch, hugging a cushion to her front.

"You okay?" He could tell she was tired, but she did look a little better after having a shower.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just really tired, I feel like I could sleep for days." As if on cue she tried and failed to stifle a yawn. Ressler saw her shiver slightly in the cool night air. He looked down at what he was wearing and decided that he could manage without the extra layer. He removed his sweater and handed it to her.

"Here, take this. It gets kinda cold in here." She took the sweater from him and stood up. He could see why she sat with the cushion pressed to her front; the top he'd given her was a lot thinner than he had thought, he could almost clearly see the outline of her breasts. He swallowed and tried not to stare as she pulled the sweater on over her head. What he didn't realise is how comfortable she felt wearing his clothes. The instant warmth she got from the sweater was like a safe haven to her.

"Thanks. Listen, Don, I mean it, thank you, for everything you've done for me tonight and will do for me tomorrow. I'm glad I still have you to watch my back." She walked over to him and placed her head against his shoulder with hand on his chest and the other round his waist.

"That's what partners are for." He wrapped his own around her shoulders. Now that she was so close to him, he noticed that she smelt of him, having obviously used his shampoo and body wash whilst in the shower. He breathed in the scent of his cologne coming from his sweater and noticed how different it smelt mixed with Liz's own personal scent.

"I asked him if he was my father."

She spoke so quietly he almost missed it. It was only because he felt her voice vibrate against him that he heard.

"What?" He was slightly confused as to what she was saying.

"Reddington. I asked him if he was my real father when I spoke to him after Anslo Garrick attacked and he went back off the grid. He said he wasn’t, and I believed him. At the time it was the only thing that made seemed to make sense."

"Do you still think that that's the case? Or are you thinking differently now?" He looked down at her, but she didn't return his gaze.

"I don't know anymore. I mean, it could be possible but there's nothing to suggest it is."

"You could always find a way to find the truth. I'll help."

She nodded against him but remained quiet. They stayed there for a few minutes until he felt her begin to sag against him; she had started to fall asleep right there standing in his arms. He led her back to the couch and guided her to lay down with her head on the cushion. She gave him a sleepy, weak smile before giving in to sleep completely. He went to his bedroom and pulled one of the extra blankets off his bed and headed back to Liz and placed it over her, making sure she was tucked in before placing a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Night Liz." He whispered in her ear before retreating to his room, turning the light out on his way.

He changed into a pair of pyjama pants and an undershirt before settling himself in bed. He tried to process everything that Liz had told him tonight but found it difficult to comprehend it all at once. How the hell she had been doing it for weeks he didn't know. What he did know is that she needed to be told the truth about how she's connected to Reddington, and he'd help her do so in any way he could. Ressler fell into an uneasy sleep, knowing that tomorrow would be a hard day.

* * *

Morning came and Ressler awoke on his front in bed. He turned over and checked the clock, noticing that it was before six in the morning. He'd barely gotten five hours sleep and his alarm wasn't due to go off for another ten minutes. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep and that he needed to relieve himself, he headed to the bathroom. It was only when he passed the piled of neatly folded clothes on the top of his dresser that he remembered his partner was asleep on his couch. He creeped to the living room and found her still fast asleep in the fetal position, the blanket partially covering her. He smiled before turning and heading to the bathroom.

He was back out two minutes later and found Liz sitting up, but it appeared that she'd fallen back to sleep. He couldn't help but smile and let out a small laugh at the figure before him. Her hair was a mess with such a mass of twists and tangles that he had no idea how she could possibly get them out. He left her sleeping in her upright position and made his way to the kitchen to start the coffee maker, knowing that they both needed their morning intake of caffeine. He stuck a few slices of bread in the toaster and pulled out the butter from the fridge. The 'ping' from the coffee machine and the 'pop' from the toaster went at almost the same time and grabbed two plates and mugs and placed them on the counter. After working with for months and endless coffee runs, he'd discovered that she takes her first coffee of the day black and with milk the rest of the day and only drank decaf if it was after nine. When it came to his coffee habits, it was black all the way. He poured out two mugs worth of coffee and buttered four slices of toast and placed two on each plate. He balanced a plate on the top of each mug before carrying them both into the living room and placing them on the coffee table.

"Liz... wake up." He gently nudged his partners shoulder in an attempt to rouse her.

"No." She cracked an eye open and gave him a glare that could have only said 'touch me again and I will kill you'. Ressler chuckled lightly before picking up one of the mugs and holding it under her nose. The tactic seemed to work because as soon as the smell hit her, her eyes flew open and she whipped the mug out of his hand.

"Mmm, coffee." He handed her one of the plates as well. "And toast! Wow, you really know how to treat your guests." She took a bite of her buttery toast and sipped away at her coffee. Ressler joined her by leaning back against the couch with his own breakfast. They ate in silence before Liz yawned.

"I feel like I barely slept. What time is it?"

He checked his watch. "Nearly five past six."

"Are you being serious?." She placed her half empty mug and crumb filled plate back on the coffee table, laid down and pulled the blanket back over her head. Her voice was muffled slightly when she spoke.

"I'll sleep till half past. You go do what you have to do."

He yanked the blanket back and returned her coffee to her. "If we're going to your house for me to go over it with you, we need to leave at seven. We need to get the ball rolling as soon as possible. You forget that I've lived with a woman before and I've watched you come in to work late majority of the time you've worked at the Post Office. To be honest, I'd bet my badge that it's because you don't leave yourself enough time to get ready."

She looked at him then rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands. "Fair play. I need to go to and get a few things from my car. Though you do realise that even with fifty minutes, I still probably won’t be ready."

He groaned and slumped back against the couch while she grinned at his expression. "If it's actually going to take you that long, I'm grabbing a shower before you hog the bathroom. Keys are by the front door, just let yourself back in." He left her drinking the remainder of her coffee whilst taking his own mug to the bathroom. He locked the door behind him and turned on the shower, took off his watch and placed it on the sink. He undressed and stepped in the shower, letting the hot water cascade over him as he thought about the day ahead. The first time he would step into his partners home would be to evaluate it as a crime scene. Today was going to be a difficult one.

He stepped out the shower ten minutes later, towel dried his hair then wrapped the same towel round his body. Another ten minutes in the bathroom saw his teeth brushed and his hair perfectly gelled into place. He left the bathroom, empty mug in hand and headed to the kitchen and placed the mug in the dishwasher. Liz wasn't in the living room when he passed and seeing as he'd spent over twenty minutes in the bathroom, he guessed that she wasn't still downstairs. He knocked on his bedroom door before entering to check if she was there.

"Liz, you in there?"

Her voice came through the door almost instantly. "Yeah, sorry, I'll be out in a minute. You were still in the shower when I came back so I changed in here."

"Don't worry about it. I'm gonna make another coffee, you want one?"

"Sure."

Five minutes later the bedroom door opened to reveal a fully dressed but bare faced and messy haired Liz. Ressler sighed inwardly as he walked out the kitchen and looked at her; he would definitely be waiting for her once he was ready. She was just about to start running a hairbrush through her hair when she stopped and caught sight of him.

"What?" He asked before looking down at himself and realising he was still only wearing a towel.

"How is it possible for you men to have your hair done to perfection in a matter of minutes?" She asked in all seriousness, but he noticed that her eyes flickered up and down his body and there was a slight falter when she skimmed over his chest. He couldn't help but feel slightly flattered.

"I guess we're just amazing, or at least I am. Coffees in the kitchen, though by the time you're ready to drink it, it'll be cold."

"Funny, Ressler, real funny."

They both headed off to finish getting ready; he into the bedroom and her the bathroom. He was out fifteen minutes later, suit on and putting the final touches to his tie but as far as he could tell Liz was still in the bathroom. He drank his still moderately warm coffee before putting on his shoes and returning the blanket Liz had used last night to his bed. Finally, at almost ten past seven, Liz emerged from the bathroom, looking ready to start the day; her hair flowed down to her shoulders and the thin layer of make-up she usually wore was done with expertise.

"All set, just let me put these things in my bag."

I'm gonna head downstairs, make sure you lock the door behind you.

He left her in his apartment while he went downstairs and waiting by Liz's car. He normally took the train to work as the commute was easier than him driving and he figured that if they were going to her house, she could give him a ride instead of him taking his own car. She exited his building five minutes later, carrying her go-bag in one hand, his apartment keys in the other and her jacket slung over her arm. She unlocked her car, dumped her bag and jacket in the truck then hopped in the front seat whilst Ressler let himself in the passenger side. The set up felt a little odd for them, seeing as whenever they were in a car together, Ressler was always driving. Before she started the car, Liz turned to Ressler, a determined look on her face.

I've thought a lot about what I'm gonna do and I just can't stay. I have to sever ties with him now or I'll be able to. I'm gonna ask Cooper for a transfer and resign from the task force. I want nothing more to do with Raymond Reddington.

If he had said he wasn't a little hurt or disappointed by her decision, he would have been lying. He had gotten used to, and enjoyed, having her as a partner. He would be sad to see her go but knew she needed to do this.

I understand, Liz, I do. You know we'll support you all the way with this.

She nodded, turned back and started the car, both pulling on their seatbelts as she drove away from his apartment and head towards the house she once called home.


	5. Chapter 5

Raymond Reddington was one of those annoying people who always woke in the mornings looking and feeling refreshed - no matter how little sleep they'd actually gotten. This particular morning, however, was different. He woke after barely four hours sleep (a usual for him) feeling exhausted but was unable to find a comfortable enough position to return back to sleep. He had been jerked awake by a sudden icy chill caused by a particularly nasty and frightful nightmare involving Lizzie being kidnapped and killed and he'd been too late to save her. Sitting in the centre of the bed, he noticed that many of the plush pillows had been knocked to the floor and the blankets were tangled round his legs due to his many twists and turns in the night.

There was no point to him remaining in bed; it would be a waste of the day to stay in bed feigning sleep for another couple of hours. Staying in his night clothes, he wrapped himself in one of the hotels complementary fluffy white robes and pushed his feet in to his slippers, before strolling to the main room of his extravagant hotel suite. It appeared that Dembe hadn't woken yet and for that, Reddington was momentarily thankful. He needed the time to think about what was going to happen regarding his relationship with Lizzie. He knew that he couldn't go back to actively working with her nor being in direct contact with her, she wouldn't allow that now. That wouldn't stop him from watching over her though.

He stood on the balcony, watching the sun steadily rise in the distance until Dembe joined him close to six thirty.

"Raymond. Have you had word on Agent Keen?"

Reddington turned briefly to Dembe before turning back to the skyline and shaking his head. "Not since last night, but I trust that Salvador will have contacted me if something was wrong. The last I heard she had gone to Agent Resslers. She'll be safe there - for now"

"Come inside, Raymond. I've ordered breakfast, it'll be here soon."

Both men turned and re-entered the suite, taking their places at the dining table. The knock at the door barely two minutes later signalled their breakfast and it was Dembe who went to the door. Reddington tipped the man who laid out their food before dismissing him and he and Dembe ate in silence for a few minutes before the younger man stopped, placed his hands on the table in front of him and spoke.

"Raymond, I think you should talk to Elizabeth."

Reddington slowly finished chewing before looking Dembe directly in the eye.

"I know, but we are both aware of the dangers it would put her in, and she will hate me even more than she already does."

An uneasy silence settled between the two but Dembe didn't push the matter, knowing that Reddington would come to a decision in his own time, and if he wanted him to weigh in, he would ask.

"Would you like me to arrange the jet for tonight?"

Reddington considered the question before responding. "I think that would be best. I will also be paying a visit to Director Cooper in a few hours. Of course, his doesn't know this, would you be a dear a inform him of our impending arrival at nine?"

Dembe gave a single nod and left Reddington sitting at the table. He reckoned he should speak to Cooper, inform him that he had some business to take care of out of the country and he may be gone for a few weeks. He would propose to the man that he give all members of the task force a well-deserved vacation, what with all the cases they have worked on in recent months, he'd hate to think of the amount of simple things the agents had neglected to do. Plus, with him away, the task force couldn't function, seeing as they need him to give them cases and that wouldn't be happening. Hopefully this would also give Lizzie some time to calm down and think properly about what she wanted. She may want him out of her life now, but maybe with a few weeks to think about, she may feel differently.

It was fast approaching seven in the morning now and he couldn't delay starting the days tasks any longer. He had a busy day ahead, what with visiting Cooper, tying up a few loose ends here and there before flying out to wherever tonight. He had barely finished buttoning the buttons of his vest when a loud ringing came from the dresser.

"Salvador."

" _Well, good morning to you, Mr Reddington. Beautiful day isn't it?_ "

"Don't play with me, Salvador. I am not in the mood."

" _Alright, alright. Your girl is on the move. Her and the agent are heading towards the house she shared with Tom Keen. Separate cars but he is following her. I'm going to get one of my guys to follow her for the rest of the day and take over again in morning. Fair, no?_ "

"Do what you need to but don't screw this up."

He ended the call without so much as a thank you. He despised the man but as Dembe had said, he hadn't had a choice but to use him. If she was taking Donald to her home then she must have trusted him enough to tell him the score, and that would mean she was planning to call it in - or at least Donald was. Reddington sighed to himself before picking up his shoes and taking them to the living space. He hoped Lizzie was strong enough to withstand the intense scrutiny she would be coming under, there would be only so much he could do to save her job if it came to it.

Dembe came from his room ready to leave five minutes after Reddington had. "Everything is done, Raymond. Cooper will be waiting for us and the jet will be ready to leave at ten tonight."

"Thank you, Dembe." Reddington slipped on his overcoat and fedora before taking one last look round the large room. "It's such a shame, I was enjoying our time here."

** *

Reddington and Dembe entered to Post Office dead on nine o'clock. Cooper was ready and waiting for them at the top of the stair leading to his office, and he followed the two men inside before closing the door behind them.

"This makes a change, speaking to someone other than Elizabeth Keen, which I'm sure you remember was one of your main demands or us. Tell me, Reddington, was is it that you want?"

"I'm well aware of that, Harold. Alas, this business will be between you and me. As it stands, I'm not in Lizzie's good books and I won't be for some time. I'll spare you the details, but the point is that I won't be working with her for a while."

"Is that so?" Cooper lent back in his chair and gave the criminal sitting before him a smug smile.

"Don't give me that look, Harold, these things happen. Coincidently, I have business to attend to which will take me out of the country for a few weeks. We all know that this task force can't function without my giving you cases. So I'm proposing that you give all agents, including yourself, a vacation."

"A vacation?" Cooper said with raised eyebrows.

"A vacation." Reddington stared back at the man.

"All agents?"

"All agents."

"For a few weeks?"

"Yes, for a few weeks." Reddington was growing slightly frustrated now. "Honestly, Harold, what is it that you're not understanding? You won't be getting any new names for the upcoming weeks and this whole task force was put together solely for the purpose of catching said names. It makes perfect sense to shut up shop until I return."

He knew Cooper was suspicious of him, how could he not be? Notorious criminal, number four on the FBI's most wanted list, dubbed the concierge or crime, turned confidential informant for a low level agent, what's not to trust? No doubt Lizzie would raise some concerns and protest the idea when she came in, but he hoped Harold would agree and set the stones in motion long before then.

"Does this," Cooper leaned forward and lent on his desk, glaring between Red and Dembe. "Have anything to do with why Agent Ressler had a team called out to Keen's house this morning to process a crime scene and why she will be question by the department about her husband?"

Reddington sat in front of the man emotionless. He had been right to think that it would called in, and he expected no less from Donald.

"I won’t bore you with the details but yes, it has something to do with it. Harold, whether you agree or not, my jet is leaving tonight, and I will be on it, but I highly suggest you consider what I've said. Think of Agent Malik who has two young children at home who would benefit from seeing their mother for longer than an hour a day. I'm aware that she is on loan from the CIA but I'm sure something could be arranged. I know for a fact that Charlene would love having you round the house to finish the odd jobs you've been promising for months. Am I wrong?"

He could tell be the look on Coopers face that he was starting to win. Raymond Reddington always wins in the end. Dembe, who was standing near the window, saw something and peaked through the blinds before speaking aloud. "Raymond, Elizabeth is here, and she's heading this way."

Reddington swallowed then sighed. "Well, gentlemen, this meeting is about to get a little uncomfortable."


	6. Chapter 6

It was fast approaching eight by the time they reached Liz's house. They both parked in the available spaces on her side of the street, though she noticed that Ressler stayed in his car, waiting for her to make the first move. There was a dull ache coming from the hand that gripped her keys and when she looked down she discovered why. There was a cut in the centre of her palm, not as deep as she though it was yesterday, which is probably why she didn't notice it. She was surprised that it hadn't started bleeding again with the sharp edges of the keys digging into her but was pleased that she didn't have to wrap another dishcloth round it. Taking in a deep breath, she braced herself against what she was about to face, about what she was about to show her partner. Liz knew that Ressler would take charge of the situation, make the necessary calls, shout the necessary orders and she was grateful for not having to be in control. All she would have to do is focus on making sure her name stayed cleared.

Liz braced herself, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves over going back into the once happy home she'd shared with her husband - the husband who lied and whose whereabouts she no longer knew of. It was one thing telling her partner of the fight that broke out in her marital home but _showing_ him the devastation caused was something she still hadn't mentally prepared for. She wasn't aware of how long she stayed sitting in her car, until a soft tap at the window pulled her back to reality.

Ressler pulled open her door and gave her a sympathetic half smile. "Hey, you doing okay?"

She sighed and nodded before quickly stepping out the car and slamming the door. She stopped again and stared up at the front door. She remembered the last time she was here and how she crumbled upon entering the door. She couldn't let that happen today, not in front of Ressler - breaking down in front of him once was enough.

"Are you sure you're ready for this, Liz? I can go in alone and sort everything out, you can stay out here?" He had sensed her unease and was trying to give her an out, but she simply shook her head and headed up the few stairs to the door.

"No. I have to do this. We better get this started, it's gonna be a long day."

She pushed the key in to the lock, twisted it and pushed the door open, taking a few steps inside and waiting for her partner to join her. She knew he had when she heard his sharp intake of breath upon seeing the state of her living room. He overtook her and walked slowly through the room to the kitchen, trying - and failing - to avoid the glass and broken frames. Liz backed herself to the wall by the door, hating the site before her. It made her feel ill being in the house, having a clear mind now and knowing that everything in it was built and based on lies. She wasn't aware that Ressler had moved back towards her until his hand connected with her shoulder.

"Hey, Liz, you really don't have to stay. I can tell this is hard for you." His voice was soft when he spoke, comforting. She shook her head and tried to regain her composure.

"It is hard. A lot harder than I thought, considering that I was only here last night." She moved away from the wall, and from Resslers touch, and walked through the debris and pointed to the broken table. "It started here. He was tied to one of the chairs. It's better that I give you a run-down of what happened before you call it in, then I can make a formal statement. I used a wrench and broke his thumb which led to him able to escape the restraints. We fought, for a while. As you can see we moved through the downstairs of the house, managed to break everything in sight. He managed to get the better of me, a well-aimed blow to the stomach. He forced me at gun point, my own gun, to cuff myself to the banister, hence why that's the only broken bar. He said goodbye and left, and he left my gun behind, out of my reach though."

Ressler didn't say a word while she spoke, just nodded along at regular intervals. Truth be told it was difficult for him to stand there a listen about how his partner was beaten by her husband. He was glad that, by the sounds of it, she had done more damage to Tom than he had to her, but that still didn't make it any easier.

"Jesus, Keen. I wish you'd let me rough him up all those months ago." He gave her a half smile which she returned.

"Believe me, so do I." The disappeared almost as fast as it came, being replaced with a sombre expression. "I'm a profiler, and have been for years, yet I couldn't even figure out that my own husband was a fake. What does that say about me?"

"That you loved and trusted him. He made you feel safe, Liz, and that's nothing to be ashamed of. It happens to the best of us."

She sighed. Trust him to be the voice of reason. "You're right, I know you're right, but it doesn't make it easier to comprehend. I suppose it's time to get the ball rolling?"

"Yeah." He nodded and pulled out his phone. "You sure you want to be in the house when they get here? You know you won't be able to be involved and will probably have to leave anyway."

"I know, but I don't want it to seem like I'm a coward. I'll stay."

"No one will think that."

"Yes, they will. I brought Tom to the Blacksite for questioning and he was cleared. People will think that I had something to do with it then and something to do with it now, you know they will. It's better that I save face sooner rather than later."

"If you say so."

Ressler unlocked his phone and dialled Coopers number, waiting patiently for his boss to answer. He only waited until the fifth ring before the call connected.

" _Cooper._ "

"Sir, it's Ressler. We have a situation."

" _What situation? Where are you?_ "

"At Keen's. Her husband, Tom Keen, is on the run. He's a hired gun, a spy, placed in Keen's life to gather intel on Reddington. We were wrong, Sir, he was involved." It took a few moments for the gravity of Resslers words to sink in and for Cooper to respond.

" _Is Keen with you now?_ "

"Yes, Sir. I need a team dispatched to her apartment ASAP." Ressler looked up at Liz, wanting her approval before continuing. She nodded quickly before averted her gaze and taking a seat on the arm of the couch. "It's a crime scene."

" _Is Keen alright, is she hurt?_ " Ressler heard the deep concern in Cooper's voice.

"She's not injured."

" _I'll have a team to you in no more than twenty minutes. Tell Keen I want her in my office within the hour._ "

"Copy that." He ended the call and placed his phone back in his pocket. Turning to Liz, he found her staring around the room again, searching amongst the broken pieces of her life. He cleared his throat loud enough for her to turn back to him.

"Cooper's sending a team, they'll be here in twenty, and he wants to see you in his office within the next hour."

She sighed and nodded. "And so it begins... Thank you."

He smiled. "No problem, Liz. That's why I'm here."

They stayed in silence for the next twenty minutes, both not wanting to say anything more on what was happening. Liz stayed sitting on the arm of the couch, but Ressler walked around the downstairs of her house. Without the broken wood and glass showering the floor, it was quite a homely place. He could tell a lot of effort went in to making it a place a couple would want to live, he knew he would. He hated to imagine what his partner must be going through, her whole world had been turned upside down and honestly, if he were in her shoes, he didn't know how he'd cope.

"Ressler." Liz called through to him. She'd been staring out the window for the last ten minutes, waiting. "They're here."

The next fifteen minutes were spent with Ressler giving orders to the group of Agents that had arrived of her doorstep, with Liz avoiding their gazes from the corner. She could see them judging her, drawing their own conclusions without knowing all the facts. She stayed in the corner for a further five minutes before Ressler came over to her.

"Every things is under control here, Liz, you can head off."

"Yeah." She grabbed her purse from beside her feet. "There's a white stuffed rabbit in one of the boxes in the downstairs closet, keep it safe for me."

"Will do. I'll see you later."

They nodded to each other and Liz left her home through the open front door, leaving the group of agents to search through the house. She was confident that they wouldn't find anything to suggest she was working with Tom, or anything tying her to Reddington. The drive to the Post Office was filled with worry over what to expect from Cooper, but, whatever he had to say, didn't change the fact that she needed to talk to him about her resignation. Thinking about it now, it would probably be better for her not to be employed by the FBI during the ongoing investigation into her husband. She had some money from the sale of her father’s house, she could buy a little apartment, take some time for herself before embarking on a new adventure. Perhaps she could become a therapist, maybe do a few course and go down a completely different path. She would just have to see where things take her.

It was just after nine when she finally reached the Blacksite and as she exited the elevator on to the War Room. Aram was sitting at his desk but shot up as she approached him.

"What's the matter, Aram?"

He was a nervous wreck, torn between divulging what he knew or not. He gave a sideways look towards Coopers office before speaking.

"Mr Reddington. He... uh... is in with Dir. Cooper, with Dembe. I don't know why but he came in about ten minutes ago and they've been in there since."

Liz looked up at the office for herself and made eye contact with Dembe, who was currently starting at her exchange with Aram. Anger returned to her as Dembe turned away, clearing making Reddington aware of her presence. Turning back to the young computer tech, she gently patted his shoulder.

"Thank you, Aram. I'll see you later."

She turned on her heel and marched straight up and into Coopers office, not even bothering to knock before entering.


	7. Chapter 7

Liz came storming into the office seconds after Reddingtons little statement. She eyed Dembe, making it clear to him that she wasn't to be messed with, not today, not ever. Her eyes were blazing with fury at the audacity of the man sitting in the chair a few feet away from her - after everything that was said between them the day before he _still_ couldn't stay away.

She didn't even look Reddingtons way as she moved directly in front of Coopers' desk. She opened her mouth to speak but Cooper beat her to it.

"Agent Keen, please take a seat."

Liz stared at Cooper before turning to glare at Reddington. "No."

"No?" Cooper sat there stunned. Not a single one of his agents had ever outright told him no before.

"He needs to leave before I speak to you."

All three sets of eyes were on her, she could feel it, but she didn't care. She'd had enough of Raymond fucking Reddington.

"Lizzie..."

"Don't." She rounded on Reddington, causing the three men to flinch slightly. "Don't you dare you evil, twisted man. You have no right. Director, I'm handing in my resignation, effective from today. I no longer wish to be a part of this task force."

Cooper opened his mouth to speak but had no words - he had not been expecting that. Never would he have imagined that Elizabeth Keen would quit when things became too much for her. Perhaps her personal problems ran a lot deeper than he thought.

"Agent Keen, this is a serious decision you're making and not something you should do lightly. We should talk before I question you on the matter regarding the search of your house."

Liz nodded but the look in her eyes made it clear that she would not be doing so in front of Reddington.

"Harold, I advise you to ignore Agent Keen's res-"

"He killed my father." Liz's declaration caused a deathly silence amongst the occupants of the room. Cooper sat there trying to process the words he had just heard while both Reddington and Dembe shared a brief look with each other before the former sighed.

"I think it would be best if you two left. Now. I want you to remove yourselves from this building before I do it myself." To his surprise, both men left without another word, leaving him and Liz alone. Cooper gestured to the now empty chair and Liz sat down, keeping her gaze focused on Coopers the entire time.

"This is much bigger than you know, and I can't - _won't_ \- stay." She refused to back out, she needed to do this.

"I can't say that I understand but, if that's what you want, then I can't stop you. However, rather than resign, you can instead request for an extended leave of absence. That way, if you do choose to return, you can." Cooper moved to one of the filing cabinets and pulled out a file before placing it in front of Liz. "I don't want to lose you from my team, Keen, but I understand that, with everything, you need some time. Reddington ordered me, before you came in, to give every member of the task force an indefinite vacation. He made a good case for it, and he's going to be out of the country until further notice. I'm inclined to do so, and I would rather do it with the knowledge that you will return once it ends."

Liz had to think about it. She wanted to stay on the task force, she really did, but she couldn't continue to work with Reddington. Cooper was offering her a way to stay, and she wanted to take it; she would still be able to see Ressler, work with Aram and Meera but also do what she was planning to do if she was leaving. Who knew how long they would be given a vacation for? It could a week or two, a month or a few, and though she would never fully be able to forgive Reddington for what he had done, maybe over time she would be able to work with him again - after all, they were doing a hell of a lot of good.

"I don't want to leave... but I can't be sure that I can be able to work with him again."

Cooper nodded and inched the file ever so closer to her. "Then, Elizabeth, we will cross that bridge when we come to it."

* * *

Not two hours after Liz left Ressler at her house, the agent stepped off the elevator and into the war room. Processing Liz's house was an exhausting task; he felt as though he was invading her privacy by going through all her belongings. He'd let the other agents work on the main area of the house, but he insisted on tackling the bedroom (though he asked for one of his female colleagues to address Liz's half of the dressers and cabinet in the en-suite bathroom). He felt the need, at least, to protect her dignity. Both he and the female agent spent an hour combing through the two rooms, not exactly finding anything that was worthy of being called 'evidence', though a pair of fluffy black handcuffs and a silky black blindfold that made Ressler turn terrifying shade of crimson were discreetly put back in their place.

When he'd finished in the bedroom, he remembered what Liz had said about a white stuffed rabbit in the downstairs closet. He made his way back down and located said closet. A box marked 'Liz childhood/Sam's house' was on the top shelf of the closet and after a brief inspection, Ressler deemed it to be nothing of significance to the case seeing as it was from a time before Tom. Liz wouldn't be allowed back in the house for a while, a few weeks at the very least, and knowing how much Sam meant to her and knowing how much his death affected her, Ressler decided to take a few of the items of the box to her. He plucked the envelope full of photos and the old, off-white, slightly burnt stuffed bunny and took them down to his car, placing them on the front seat.

He left once the house had fully been given the once over, leaving a few agents stationed at the front and back entrances to the house, just in case Tom Keen decided to be stupid enough to show up again. He made the journey to the Post Office not knowing quite what to expect. Will Liz have had explained the situation to Cooper? Will she have already told Aram and Meera that she would be leaving them and effectively ending the task force? Will he be entering their office to find her packing away all her things? As time went on, he realised that he hated the thought or her leaving but he knew he would always support her in whatever she chose to do - and leaving was something that she needed to do.

He parked his car and flashed his ID towards the guards standing at the elevator, they granted him access instantly, one of them taking the usual trip down with him. He stepped out into the war room, envelope and stuffed bunny in hand, and instantly noticed that all seemed relatively normal, though upon reaching Aram’s desk, he noted that the young agent was casting worried look after looking up to his and Keen's shared office.

"Aram, something wrong?" He stepped up to his desk and gave him one of his glares that sent Aram into a spluttering mess.

"No.. no, of course not, Agent... Ressler. Just... just looking out for... Agent Keen." Aram refused to make eye contact, instead keeping his eyes on his computer screen.

"Why?"

Aram gave him a quick glance before sighing, something that Aram didn't actually do often. "Because... when she came in earlier and found out Reddington was in with Dir. Cooper, she... she patted me on the shoulder like a child doing something worth praise, marched up the stairs and stormed straight into his office without knocking." Aram spoke so quickly that Ressler almost missed what he'd said.

"What! Reddington was here? Do you know what happened in there?" Oh, this wasn't good. Was Reddington really going to push Liz's buttons?

"Um... well.. they were all in there for a few minutes but then... um... Mr Reddington and Dembe came out and Mr Reddington was looking a little... defeated? Liz stayed in there for a while after, but she came out looking a little... tired to be honest. She was holding a document of some sort."

Ressler shot a look up to his office before making eye contact with Aram. "Do you know what it was?"

Aram shook his head. "No... but she didn't have it with her when she went in. Dir. Cooper must have given it to her."

"Thanks, Aram." Ressler flashed a brief, almost non-existent smile to the agent and all but sprinted up to his and Liz's office, coming to an abrupt halt outside the door. He had to brace himself slightly, this was most probably be the last time he would be stepping into this office they'd called theirs.

He turned the handle and pushed open the door, noting instantly that nothing had been moved out of its place. Liz was slumped over her desk, writing furiously on to a note pad and had evidently not heard him come in. He couldn't help but wonder what she was working so hard on, but after a quick glance and seeing Tom's name at the top of the page, it didn't take a genius to work out what it was. He closed the door softly behind him and still Liz seemed not to realise he was back, something which caused Ressler to smile slightly. He placed the envelope and stuffed rabbit on the edge of her desk, and it was this act that finally made Liz stop what she was doing and realise that he was there.

"Hey, you found him!" She grabbed the rabbit and ran her fingers over its head, an act which seemed to help her relax. She glanced at the envelope and smiled, knowing exactly what was in it.

"Him?" Ressler raised an eyebrow but didn't comment further, instead waiting for Liz to volunteer the information to him.

"Yes, him. I don't remember ever taking to dolls, or anything overly girly. Any stuffed animal I owned, including this one, were male. Seemed simpler that way."

Ressler laughed and soon Liz gave a chuckle before sighing and looking back down at the note pad, keeping the stuffed toy near to her.

"I didn't resign."

Her statement made Resslers head shoot up. He had no idea what changed her mind, considering that she'd been dead set on doing so earlier that morning before she'd left him to come here. He just hoped, for sanities sake, that Reddington had nothing to do with her change of heart.

"You didn't?"

"No." She sighed again and rubbed her temples. "I opted for an extended leave of absence instead. Cooper didn't like that I wanted to leave but understood by reasoning behind it. He suggested taking the leave instead and see how I feel. If I still feel the same after then I'll resign, and Cooper knows that."

Ressler nodded but didn't say anything. He couldn't lie, he was glad that she was still, technically, staying on the task force, even if she wouldn't actively be there. He suppressed a smile as he looked over to his partner; she wore a confused expression and he couldn't tell whether that was because of her decision or because something else was bothering her.

"Out with it, Keen. What's wrong."

Liz looked up at him, opened her mouth to say something but closed it again almost instantly. She stayed quite for a couple of minutes before actually speaking.

"Cooper will most likely be going over this at some point later today but... Reddingtons convinced him to give every single member of the task force, including himself, an indefinite vacation." Resslers expression alone was enough to make her continue. "He didn't say what Reddington had actually said but Cooper reckons he made a pretty good argument. It's how he convinced me to take the leave instead of resigning, saying that I wouldn't be here anyway."

"Why would Reddington want everyone to have a vacation? What the _hell_ is he planning?"

"I don't know." Liz jotted something down on the pad before her. "Cooper said Reddington would be attending to business out of the country for the foreseeable future and without him, the task force can't function. Which, technically, is unfortunately true."

Ressler was about to say something when they were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. Cooper let himself in without invitation, choosing to stand in the doorway and motioned to Liz.

"Keen, it's time. If you would please accompany me to the interrogating room so we can get this underway. Ressler, I would like you to debrief the team."

Both agents nodded and stood as Cooper left the room to wait for Liz. Ressler approached her and touched her arm lightly.

"Good luck, Liz. I'll make sure the team does every single thing they can to get to the bottom of this."

She gave him a nod and left the room, turning back to him at the last minute and muttering, "I hope so."


	8. Chapter 8

It had been nearly ten minutes since Liz had left their shared office to be questioned by Cooper. Ressler had left the comfort of his own desk chair no more than two minutes after her, knowing that, regardless of whether Cooper had told him to or not, as the senior agent, it was his job to brief the team on their newest case. He hated walking out the office, holding the file that he'd prepared and knowing that he was about to throw his partners name and reputation right into the middle of the investigation, displaying her private life in the open for all to see. As soon as he cleared the office door and brought himself in view of everyone in the war room, he put his agent face back in place, hiding all the concern for his partner behind it. Out the corner of his eye, he could see Meera and Aram staring quizzically at him from behind the latter's desk. They both knew that something was going on with Keen, having witnessed her being escorted from their office towards the interrogation rooms by Cooper himself, something that happened, even if they were working a case. For the most part, when Ressler had called a team in to process Keen's house, he'd managed to keep it on a need to know basis but now...

"Alright everyone, gather round. We've got a new case." He walked into the centre of the war room, waving the file high over his head as he headed to the large table they usually gathered around. Meera, Aram and a few other agents joined him at the table but just as he was about to speak, Aram cut him off.

"Aren't... Aren't we going to wait for Agent Keen?"

All agents present looked expectantly at him. Aram, as usual, began to nervously jitter an apology his way without actually looking at him while Meera silently asked him what the hell was going on. He wished he'd had the chance to go over it with them beforehand - but he hadn't, so now he had to endure the glares and flurry of questions he was going to get from the CIA agent once they got a moment alone. He sighed and glanced towards the direction of the room Liz and Cooper would now be in, wishing that he didn't have to do this. He turned back to the group and opened the file, neglecting to make eye contact with anyone.

"Agent Keen is not permitted to be an investigating agent on this case." His statement earned him a few confused looks for the agents, narrowed eyes from Meera and, for some reason, a petrified look from Aram.

"But all names on the Blacklist go through Keen. That's how this works; Reddington gives them to her, she gives them to us, and we investigate." Meera was challenging him for information. If only she would just shut up and let him explain. "We work as a team, and we're not a team if Keen isn't here."

"And if you give me a damn chance, I'll explain exactly _why_ Keen won't be joining us." He spoke through gritted teeth, loud enough for only Aram and Meera to hear. Aram recoiled away a little but Meera just nodded and gestured for him to continue.

"Reddington didn't bring this case to us, it's _not_ a blacklister. Well, not as far as we can tell. Like Keen, Reddington won't be involved." He pulled a photo out of the file, turning and walking over to the glass case boards and stopping before the middle one. He took a deep breath before leaning forward and pinning the photo against the glass and writing, in block capitals, the name of their latest case target and stepping away. There was a collective intake of breath as he moved away enough for them to see.

"Tom Keen." He turned back to face everyone. Most of them knew of, and were involved in, when they investigated him before. Meera was cursing under her breath and Aram had rushed back to his desk and started pulling up everything they had on Liz's husband. "Birth name unknown. It's recently been brought to our attention that 'Tom Keen' is in fact an alias. Most of you will remember when he was investigated before, and you will know that we couldn't dig anything up on him then. For those of you who are not familiar, I want you to go back over and read the files. Now, though, we have a little more information. Aram, I want you to go back and dig into every name on those passports we have in evidence, I don't care how small a detail you come up with, I want it looked in to. Jenkins, I want you to go to the elementary school Keen works at, interview all the staff there, take Bates with you. Find out any and every day he's taken off, find a pattern if you can. Malik, go to your pals as the CIA, see if they can give you anything. Now people, move!"

* * *

More than two hours passed before Liz made a reappearance. She took one look at the screens in the war room, spotting various images of Tom and bulked straight into her office, not wanting to be seen by the agents working the case. Ressler spotted her though, having become so attuned to her movements since they started working together as partners. He quickly finished his conversation with Aram, who had yet to find anything significant on any of Toms passports, and jogged into their office, closing the door with a soft snap behind him.

Liz was sitting at her desk, elbows resting on the wooden surface with her head pressed into her hands. Ressler wasn't entirely sure whether she'd noticed him enter, having made no move to change her position or acknowledge his presence. He took this as a sign of things not going to well. Ressler grabbed the back of his chair and wheeled it round next to where she was sitting. He slipped off his suit jacket, slung it over the back of his chair and sat down, lightly touching Liz's shoulder.

"Hey, you okay?" His tone was soft and comforting, but that didn't stop Liz from jumping and jerking slightly away from him.

"Shit, Ress, when did you come in?" She turned back away from him briefly, hoping that he wouldn't notice the few stray tears she tried to wipe away. He did notice but chose not to comment on it.

"About a minute ago, I saw you come back. How did it go?"

It took a lot of self-control for her not to break down in front of him again, not that he'd think any less of her if she did. The last two hours had been hell for her. She had had to repeat herself time and time again for the agents conducting the interview to believe that she knew no more than she'd already told them. She still wasn't convinced that they trusted her innocence in the matter but there was nothing more that she could do about it, she could only hope that Ressler and the team manage to find all the evidence they need on Tom. Liz gave a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose before leaning back in her chair to look at him and started from the beginning.

"Cooper didn't conduct the interview."

"What? Why the hell not?" He was so sure that Cooper would be taking control of the whole thing, ensuring that Liz got a fair say, but evidently that didn't happen.

"They wouldn't let him. He was stopped from entering the room with me, something about him being 'too close' and whatever I was to tell him could possibly be manipulated to go in my favour. I get where they came from. Cooper tried to argue but he was forced to be on the other side of the glass."

"That's bullshit, there's no way in hell Cooper would do that. Don't they know who their dealing with? He's the fucking Deputy Director of the FBI!"

The sides of Liz's mouth started to curl into a smile at her partners outburst. She patted his hand, which was pressed flat against her desk, lightly and left her palm resting on the back of it. "It's fine, Don. Nothing we can do now."

"But -" He started but she cut him off with a pleading look.

"But nothing. I just want it all to end, and I'm not going to start a dispute about my boss not being able to question me. Just leave it okay?" He turned his hand over under hers, taking it and giving it a quick squeeze and nodding. "Good. What do you have so far?"

Now it was Resslers turn to sigh. "Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing. Whoever he works for knows what they're doing. We were right the last time we looked into him, the passports are government grade and each of the identities could easily be the real thing." He paused, looking her straight in the eye. "I know we're going to find something, but... Liz... it could take months to do it."

Liz tried not to show her disappointment but knew she'd failed miserably; she should have known better than to try and hide it from the man next to her. It was stupid to think that, especially now, she could get away with anything around her partner, because, as she'd come to realise, he was much more than her partner, he was her friend.

"That's just a risk we're going to have to take. At least the team's doing something now... I just wish we'd done this sooner. If only I'd told you about this when I found out, you could have started the investigation while he was still around."

"You did what you thought was the right thing at the time. To be honest, I would have done the same as you; looking into it myself before telling anyone. Do I wish you'd told me sooner? Maybe, but there's nothing we can do about it now, and there's no telling whether it would have been beneficial then anyway."

Liz nodded and he gave her hand a squeeze again before letting go. She wiped her eyes and cleared her smudged make-up with a tissue he passed her. Ressler knew he would have to go back to the war room soon, but he didn't want to leave her, and he knew that she wouldn't leave their office until there was no one to see her. He didn't have to make a decision, however, because no sooner had he opened his mouth to say exactly that to her, there was a knock at that door and Meera let herself in.

"I've got something."


	9. Chapter 9

Dembe followed Reddington silently and obediently from Coopers office. The two descended the staircase back into the war room without speaking a word, neither willing to start a discussion until they were safely away from the concrete confines of the Post Office. Reddington tipped his fedora towards Aram as he passed, turning the young agent in to a nervous wreck, causing him to barely be able to stutter out a goodbye. They entered the elevator and two minutes later were driving out through the steel, reinforced gates surrounding the Blacksite. They continued to journey themselves and Elizabeth Keen.

Reddington would forever have the image of Lizzie's pain, anger and betrayal laced eyes imprinted in his mind. Until this moment in his life, Raymond Reddington had never felt so... _ashamed_ of himself. The fact was that _he_ was the one to cause all the hurt and devastation in Lizzie's life; and everything bad to happen to her had been his fault – and he'd never hated himself more for it. By his own selfish reasoning, he thought he was keeping her safe, but he should have known better than to think he could protect her and be in her life at the same time. Reddington knew Dembe felt it to, having known the man for years, he understood when his silence spoke volumes. Dembe had warned him about this years ago, when the situation had first fully been explained to him, and he wasn't the type to say, 'I told you so', but Reddington knew it was there, unspoken between them.

Dembe drove them back in the direction of their hotel; if they were leaving the country for a while then bags would need to be packed. Truth be told he would dearly miss being in close proximity and seeing Lizzie every day, but it didn't take a genius to understand that the woman needed her space. He would continue to have Salvador, along with his men, follow her and keep him updated, not only as a precautionary measure but to keep his mind at rest. Even if he could no longer personally look out for her, he could at least make sure someone was.

Heavy traffic prevented them from reaching the hotel for more than an hour. Reddington took this time to make the necessary phone calls to his inner circle; informing them that he'll be out the country for the foreseeable future, but not divulging where exactly he would be going. Not one person was allowed to know, on one, except Mr Kaplan. He called her last, knowing that talking to her would at the very least put a smile on his face.

" _Will you be requiring my assistance?_ "

"No, no, Kate, it's not that kind of business. I'm merely travelling to London for sight-seeing purposes, and the odd meeting or two if I'm lucky."

He heard her sigh on the other end of the line. " _I know exactly what your business meetings can consist of. Just be careful, Dearie. It's a lot harder to do a clean-up operation from thousands of miles away, and you know how I prefer to oversee these things personally._ "

Reddington chucked lightly. Yes, talking to Mr Kaplan was just what he needed. "I assure you; I have no plans to be in need of your expertise. In any case, if I did, one of my secondary jets would get you there faster than any commercial flight."

" _I haven't flown commercial in nearly twenty years._ "

"Exactly."

He heard her sigh again. " _Very well, Raymond. But, if you make my fly to England's capital, I'll charge you extra._ "

He chuckled once more. "There's really no need for you to pack a bag, my gun will be safely stowed away."

" _You don't always use a gun, Dearie._ " She was clearly not amused.

Reddington laughed outright now. "You would know. I'll call when I'm back in town. Ciao."

" _Safe travels, Raymond._ "

He disconnected the call and handed the call back over to Dembe in the front seat. They were closing in on the hotel now and within minutes were out of the car with Dembe handing over the keys to the valet before the two of them entered the building and made their way to the top floor. Dembe opened the door to the suite, standing aside to allow Reddington access to enter first. The communal room was far too quiet, and the silence was deafening. They both removed their jackets, Dembe hanging his by the door while Reddington chose to simply sling his over the back of the couch, resting his fedora on the arm. Reddington went straight for the partially empty bottle of whiskey he'd left out the previous night, pouring himself a generous amount of the amber liquid and knocking it back without flinching. Dembe move around silently behind him, gathering various items from round the room in preparation for them to be packed. Reddington stood watching him for a few minutes before speaking.

"Dembe." The younger man turned to him instantly. "That can wait. Come sit."

Dembe nodded and they both seated themselves on the two over-stuffed armchairs. Reddington stared into the empty fire grate for a while before turning to stare at his friend.

"I _will_ tell Lizzie – everything – but not until our return. I think it's time I respect her wishes. She needs some space to process things."

Dembe nodded and only because Reddington had known him for so long did he spot the faintest hint of a smile shadowed on his face. Dembe had been pushing him to tell Lizzie ever since he'd made contact with her, well, ever since Dembe was brought back in to be his bodyguard and right hand man. Reddington hadn't believed she'd been ready the hear the truth, and for the most part he had been right, but he'd also been very wrong, and now he was facing the prospect of being cut out of her life for good.

Dembe, sensing the conversation was now over, returned to gathering their things from around the large room while Reddington continued to nurse his drink. Within the next couple of hours, the entire suite was stripped bare of anything relating to their stay. Their bags were loaded into the car and Dembe drove them to the airport, where Reddingtons jet was ready and waiting for them. The crew stowed their luggage while Reddington took his preferred seat on the jet, Dembe going to the cockpit to speak to the pilot. They wouldn't reach their destination until the early hours of the morning, just under half a day of travelling.

Reddington reflected on the past two days; on how everything had turned and gone so wrong. Things had seemed to finally been going well with Lizzie. He liked to believe that she was starting to trust him, even if it was only a fraction. She was actually beginning to believe he'd had her best interests at heart over his continued insistence at Tom's lack of innocence. She had never questioned Sam's death before, but only after the fight with Tom had she started digging – Reddington could only guess that Tom had told her he'd been involved. Aram, oh sweet Aram, must have done the real digging, Lizzie didn't have the power nor time to do it herself. If he hadn't had been acting under Lizzie's request Reddington would have had to have a word with him, but it wasn't fair... and it would just upset Lizzie even more.

Reddington wondered how much time he should give Lizzie to calm down and consider working or even talking to him again. At one point he'd had to give his ex-wife a months’ worth of space to clear her head before he could go near her. He didn't think he could bear being away from Lizzie for that long after being so close to her for months. He reckoned he'd stay in London for a few days, maybe travel Briton for a week or two, then reach out to her. Donald will have helped her come to terms with everything that had happened by then. Yes, that's what he would do.

"Raymond."

Reddington snapped his head up. Dembe was sitting across from him, seatbelt fastened, an expression of concern on his face.

"Yes, Dembe?"

"We're about to take off. You need to do your seatbelt."

"Ah, thank you. I might take a nap when it's safe, will you wake me in a few hours?"

"Of course."

"Good man, good man."

As they took off a few minutes later, DC shrinking below them, Reddington couldn't help but feel dread in his gut. Something was going to happen. Someone was going to get hurt. Lizzie was going to find out the truth before he was ready, and he would regret never telling her before.


	10. Chapter 10

"I've got something."

Meera backed out the room, leaving Liz and Ressler alone again. They exchanged a look; Ressler understanding that Liz would love to go out there with him but knowing she couldn't, and Liz silently begging him to keep her in the loop. Checking the blinds to see if they were fully closed, Ressler stood and pulled Liz up from her seat by the hand. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight against his chest. She breathed in deeply as he rested his chin on the top of her head.

"I'll come straight back in here and tell you everything they tell me, okay?" Liz nodded against his chest, mumbling a thanks. "I mean it, Liz, we'll find out everything about him, and we'll get him. I won't stop until we do."

"Thank you, Don." She smiled at him before leaning up and placing a light kiss to his cheek. He smiled back and released her, moving towards the door.

When he stepped out the office and closed the door behind him, he instantly spotted Aram and Meera crowded round the formers computer. He couldn't decipher why they were giving him the knowing looks they were, until he passed a window and caught his reflection. His cheeks were flushed with pink and he was sure he could see a faint lipstick mark. He groaned inwardly, now knowing exactly what they were thinking and used the back of his hand to wipe his cheek.

"Don't say a word." Ressler growled to them as he reached the desk. Aram had just been about to open his mouth to question him but thought better of it. He looked away quickly, busying himself with typing at his computer. Meera, however, continued to keep a sly smirk on her face. She nodded to Aram, signalling that she wanted something pulled up on the screen. He obliged, and an image of Tom Keen from at least five years ago popped up in front of them.

"Meet Justin Warren."

Ressler gaped at the screen, not believing what he was seeing. "Justin Warren? You found out who he really is, how?"

"I have level seven clearance."

"This is level seven?"

"Technically, no, but I have a friend who owed me a pretty big favour."

Ressler nodded, still staring at the image of Justin Warren, also known as Tom Keen, on the screen. "So, who is he? Why is he so high up on the CIA's radar?"

Meera moved to the other side of the desk, now facing Ressler and Aram head on. "He's a former CIA agent gone rogue. His file shows the agency believed him dead, though a body was never found. Ressler..." She lowered her voice and beckoned them closer. "This is highly classified, until we can get confirmation from another source we can't be shouting this out. When he was on the agency's payroll, he was tasked with hunting down none other than Raymond Reddington and bring him on to English soil to stand trial in the connection to the deaths of a government official, his wife and the disappearance of their four year old daughter in nineteen eighty eight."

Meera nodded to the screen again and Ressler shifted his attention over to it. Aram brought up a newspaper clipping from that year. The black and white archive photo showed the image of a burning house and was captioned ' ** _MP and family die in blaze horror_** '. He scanned the article, reading it aloud to the other two in a whisper.

****

**_It has been confirmed today that MP Daniel Cameron and his wife, Charlotte, died in the fire at their London home last night. It is believed that the couples four year old daughter, Jennifer, was also in the house at the time, and unconfirmed reports suggest she was killed in the blaze along with her parents._ **

****

**_Though the police have denied to comment, many believe the fire may have been started deliberately and a team of specialists were called out to survey the scene once the blaze was extinguished._ **

****

**_Spokespeople at the Houses of Parliament have also declined to comment, but it was released that a minutes silence of remembrance would be held within the walls for Mr Cameron and his family later today._ **

Ressler read the article through two more times to fully grasp what it was saying. Meera was staring at him, as if waiting for him to realise something, to come to some sort of a conclusion, and she seemed to be adamant that she wouldn't be spelling it out for him. He read through the article again to be sure he'd gained everything he could but also went over what she'd told him about Warren being tasked with catching Reddington... and then it clicked...

"The girl, she didn't die in the fire did she?"

Meera shook her head. "No, the reports were falsified."

"And Reddington made that happen?"

"That's what the CIA believe."

They were finally getting somewhere; they knew who Tom really was and part, if not all, his connection to Reddington... but what he didn't understand was Liz's part in all this was. His mind seemed to be running through a thousand words a minute, and the main ones flying out at him being 'fire', 'the girl didn't die' and 'four year old daughter'. Slowly, much too slowly and he would later be ashamed to admit, all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. He checked the date of the article one last time before not so gently shoving Aram out of the way of his own computer and grabbing the mouse. A few clicks and quick taps of the keys and he had Liz's personnel file on the screen. Ressler skimmed along her personal information until he got to where he needed.

"Son of a bitch." He slammed his fist on the desk.

"Agent Ressler?" Aram asked timidly, not entirely sure why Ressler was acting like that. Meera took one look at what he'd pulled up and cursed under her breath, realisation dawning on her face.

"The dates match."

Ressler nodded but Aram looked as confused as ever. "Can one of you please tell me what's going on."

Ressler deleted his search and beckoned them both to follow him to one of the far corners of the war room. He checked around them to ensure no one was listening before turning to face Aram. "It was Liz."

A few seconds passed and Aram continued to have the same confused look upon his face. "What was Liz?" Ressler growled in response and Aram flinched back against the wall. "I really don't understand. How is Agent Keen involved in all of this... other than the obvious, obviously.

Ressler glanced at Meera, wanting her to take the reins with the explanation; he'd end up throttling Aram if she didn't. Meera nodded and stepped closer to Aram, gaining his full attention.

"We believe, from what we've just read in both the newspaper article and Liz's personnel file, that she was the girl in the fire. The dates of the Cameron fire and the date of the fire Liz was in match and we know she was adopted after that event." Painstakingly slowly it seemed, Aram started to understand where they were coming from. "I haven't been able to access all the files on the investigation but I do know that, just over five years ago, one of the detectives involved in the original investigation admitted to his former superior on tape that he had taken a bribe from a man he claimed not to know at the time, but later identified him as Raymond Reddington."

"But we have no proof," Aram said slowly. Ressler and Meera stared at him, and he held his hands up at them. "Look, until we can access the official CIA files, we don't have anything to prove that it's all linked."

"He has a point." Meera tipped her head to Aram, but spoke to Ressler, who nodded in reluctant agreement.

"Then, Aram, I want you to pull up everything you can on the Cameron fire, and the fire involving Liz. Meera, pull every string and every favour you can and get access to all the files in their entirety connected to both investigations."

"What are you gonna do?" He could tell by her tone that she knew exactly what he had to do now.

"I promised I'd let her know any and everything as soon as we had it, I'm not gonna break that."

"But we don't really know anything." Aram took an involuntary step back from the glare Ressler was now giving him. "Not for sure anyway..."

"Agent Mojtabai, I will tell my partner whatever I see fit. I do not need your permission, understand?" He waited long enough for Aram to nod before continuing. "Print me out a copy of everything we have so far. Anything either of you find from now on gets checked by me before it goes into our current case file."

Two minutes later Ressler was standing outside his and Liz's office, the file Aram had printed for his clutched safely in his hand. There was no need for him to knock, but it felt right. He wanted to give her warning, even if it was only a few seconds. He cracked open the door and instantly caught sight of Liz, who was wearing the slightest hint of a guilty expression.

"Sorry, I didn't like having my back to the door."

She was sitting in his chair at his desk, one leg curled underneath her. He couldn't help but chuckle and give her one of his signature half smiles. "Don't worry about it, Keen." He wheeled over her own chair and sat as close to her as he could, given the tight space and placed the file on the desk in front of her.

"Is this-?"

"It's what we have so far."

She stared at the file with Ressler waiting patiently at her side but remained still. When she had still made no move to open it a few minutes later, Ressler took her hand in his a squeezed lightly.

"His real name is Justin Warren." She suddenly stared at him. "He's former CIA, Liz, so until Meera can access his internal file, we don't have much to go on."

"But it's a start. An hour ago he was Tom Keen, now he has a whole new identity, a real one." She flipped the file open and skimmed through it, stopping at the article of the Cameron fire. Ressler saw her jaw tense and her eyes bulge as she read it through. "I don't understand?"

"We don't yet have all the details, but Reddington was somehow connected to that fire. Warren was tasked with bringing him in to stand trial, but something changed, and he went rogue, faked his death and began working with one of Reddingtons enemies." He took her hand again and tugged her gently, forcing her to look at him. "We have a theory, but you need to understand that we have barely anything to go on, so we could be completely wrong with this, okay?"

"Don, anything is better than what I came to you last night with." She took a deep breath and looked up at him. "Just tell me what you think."

Ressler tried to sigh discretely; he was starting to fast wish he'd listened to Aram and kept his mouth shut until they knew more. Liz looked at him so hopeful, like he could give her all the answers when, in reality, he could barely give her anything.

"We think, ugh... We think..." He sighed, rubbed his forehead and looked her dead in the eye. "We think you were the girl in the Cameron fire."

Liz stared at him at him for all of ten seconds, her eyes widening as she processed the information. She then raced back through the file he'd given her, looking for any indication to confirm that what he'd said was true, before resting on the page with the newspaper article. Suddenly, she slammed the file shut and stood, pushing the chair away with such force that it hit the back wall.

"This doesn't make any sense, Don. That girl died in the fire. How can I be her? It's not possible." She began to pace, muttering disbelief to herself. Ressler stood and grabbed her by the hand in an attempt to calm her. It worked, and she eventually came to rest with her forehead pressed against his shoulder. "How can this be possible?"

"We're not sure that it is, but the dates of that fire and yours match, Liz. Meera's intel has it that Reddington paid off the investigating officer to report that the Cameron girl dies with her parents, but the confession he made before he dies contradicts that. Warren was tasked with bringing in Reddington, but only for two murders, not three." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, running his hand gently over her upper arm. "Meera's gathering more intel and Aram’s looking in to the two fires. Reddington can't refuse to give you the answers if you already have them, and I'm gonna see to it that you do. There's a chance this might come to nothing though, Liz."

"But there's a chance it might come to something." She pushed away from him, choosing to stand in front of him now. She spoke in a small voice. "Your honest opinion?"

He was afraid of that. "Liz-"

"Please, Don." She begged him, her eyes wide and pleading. If there was ever an appropriate time, he'd one day tell her how adorable she looked. But right now... right now was not that time. He closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath, then giving his honest thoughts.

"I think you're Jennifer Cameron."


	11. Chapter 11

"I think you're Jennifer Cameron."

Silence settled between them once the gravity of Resslers simple but, devastatingly, honest statement kicked in. He didn't dare attempt to say a single word as she stood there and watched on while Liz processed and dealt with the shock of what he'd just said. Looking at his friend, Ressler surmised that it must have been one thing alone to hear the revelation as a general theory for the case, but another thing entirely to hear your own partner voice it as their own personal opinion. It took a few minutes of pure silence before Liz was finally able enough to speak. She cleared her throat and began to pace back and forth past him, avoiding his gaze and keeping her voice low as she spoke.

"And you usually have a pretty good sense of judgement, so -"

"It doesn't mean anything, Liz!" He caught hold of her wrists as she passed by him for the fourth time and attempted to pull her to a stop. "I could be reading this in the complete wrong way." He rubbed his brow in frustration, willing her to understand it was nothing more than a theory they'd come up with based on coincidence. "I promised to tell you everything I know as I find out and I have."

Liz finally came to a complete stop and looked up at him, disbelief evident in her eyes. She ran a hand through her hair and gave a somewhat nervous laugh. "I can't believe this."

"I could be wro-" he tried to say, but she cut him off by wrenching her hand out of his grip and holding it up to him as she started to pace again.

"Just save it, Don. We both know that, whatever you promised, you still wouldn't have brought it up unless you wholeheartedly believe you had a pretty good idea that your intel’s correct," she snapped. She shook her head and dropped her hand before she ran it through her hair and sighed, lowering her voice. "Sorry. If you've found even the slightest link, no matter how small it might be, chances are they'll most likely follow through. We now have to work under the suspicion that... that I'm that girl."

She threw herself heavily down in to her chair, elbows on knees and head in her hands. Ressler watched her and could see the revelation was already taking its toll on her, and he hated the fact that he'd been the one to give it to her. He pulled his chair right up next to hers and sat down, wrapping an arm round her shoulder and drawing her close to him.

"I'm sorry, Liz," he said, tracing his thumb lightly over her shoulder. "Guess this wasn't what you were expecting when you came to me last night, is it?"

Liz gave a low laugh and leaned further into his side, the warmth comforting. "I honestly don't know what I thought. I never expected to discover my husband, the man I used to love and trust, was ex-CIA gone rogue. Or to find out that he was initially placed in my life because of Reddington." She sighed, using a single finger to wipe away a few stray tears. "This is such a mess!"

"Hey," Ressler said softly. He removed his arm and spun them both to face each other, placing his hands on her shoulders. "It's a mess that we'll get sorted, however long it may take, okay? We'll get it sorted, Liz."

"I'm not so sure." Ressler raised an eyebrow at her, and she shrugged. "If Reddington wants the truth hidden, it'll stay hidden."

"Not necessarily." He rubbed the back of his neck. "He slipped up with your father."

Now it was Liz's turn to raise an eyebrow. She looked up at him, confused. "What?"

"He let himself openly be caught on camera, almost as if he wasn't aware, that's how you knew he was there, right?" Liz nodded. "Liz, it's extremely rare to catch Reddington on film, I should know," he said bitterly. He released his grip on her and leant back in his chair, shrugging. "He could have made the same mistake years ago that we can now link him to."

His hopeful tone hung in the air between them for a few seconds, and they both found themselves wishing for him to be right. Liz took the time they were silent to really think about the possibility before speaking.

"Maybe you're right," she said, mimicking him by leaning back in her own chair. Ressler almost smirked at her, that was until she continued, her voice once again low and humourless. "But I'm not who everyone thinks I am."

"Hey," Ressler said sharply, leaning forward in his chair again. "You'll always be Elizabeth Keen to me, Liz."

It took a few seconds to appreciate what he had said, but when she finally did, Liz began to smile and a small wave of relief that she still had the ability to washed over him. He hated seeing the constant hurt in her eyes at every turn, and he hated to witness the aftermath of each and every bad event even more. In the last ten months alone, ever since her first day at the Post Office, her life had been turned upside down from all different directions and Ressler sensed the climax of her problems were nowhere in sight. His relief was, however, short lived, for he watched on as Liz's eyes suddenly glassed over and he smile dropped as soon as it formed.

"Oh my God." Her whisper was pain filled, and it scared him.

Ressler dragged his chair so close to her now their knees were touching. He brushed the hair that had fallen out of her face and ran his thumb over her cheek. "What? Liz?"

"I was adopted." She sounded as though she was in a trance, almost as if she were remembering something truly disturbing and Ressler didn't like it - it was unsettling.

"I know," he said slowly, unsure of where her thoughts were going.

"Was it even legal?"

Now Ressler understood why she was acting the way she was. She'd been adopted, at four, by Sam after she'd survived the fire; so if her identity had been changed, it was completely plausible that he'd been aware of the whole thing. Documents would have had to be fabricated, records altered, and people bought off and lied to. Ressler tilted his head, thinking. "You thinking your father could have known, been part of it?"

"How could he not be?" She pushed away from him, stood and started pacing once more. Ressler jumped up and tried to stop her, but she moved herself out of his reach. "No, Ressler, listen. If this turns out to be more than just speculation, then there's no way in hell Sam could have been in the dark about it all. He had to have known. He had -"

She stopped so suddenly, eyes widening, that Ressler went into defensive mode in case of an imminent attack, clearing the room of a threat. His gaze stopped back on Liz and she had adopted the same glassy look she'd had less than five minutes ago, and Ressler was back at her side in an instant.

"Liz?" He shook her shoulder lightly when she failed to answer after a few seconds, his concern for her deepening. "Keen," he growled. "Talk to me."

"He knew he was dying..." she muttered, her voice faltering midway, tears falling slowly as she spoke about the painful memory of her father. "He knew he was dying, and he wanted to tell me something important before he did. Th-that must be why Reddington killed him. This is what he wanted to t-tell me." She choked back a sob and leant heavily on Ressler for support as she fully began to realise now how much she had been lied to and how much was still being kept from her.

Ressler tightly wrapped his arms round her and pulled her to his chest, rubbing her back as he let her cry it out against him. He had no idea what to do; she was breaking down even further and, honestly, he didn't know how much more she would be able to take. He placed his chin on the top of her head, keeping a tight hold on her and still rubbing circles on her back. "You can't know that for sure," he tried.

"Can't I?" she mumbled, her voice thick, into his chest, sending light vibrations through him. "It's the only thing that makes sense."

He didn't think it was a good idea to admit to her that she was probably right. "You'll get the truth, Liz. I promise."

"But at what cost?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She made to push away from him. "Another life of someone I care about?"

"Look at me." Ressler lifted her chin with his finger, forcing her to look up at him. Her eyes glistened with yet more falling tears, and he ran his thumb over her cheek, stopping them in their tracks and wiping them away. When he spoke, the shear amount of fierce determination startled not only Liz, but Ressler himself. "I won't let that happen."

Liz stared at him now, truly believing that he would be able to find out the truth about everything, truly believing that he wouldn't fail, truly believing that, for the first time in her life, she had someone by her side that hadn't and wouldn't lie to her. Ressler stared at her, hoping beyond belief that she fully believed that he'd do whatever it took to help her. He breathed a silent sigh of relief as she gave him the smallest of nods and sat back in her seat. She left him standing and rolled her chair back to her desk and picked up a pen and Ressler saw a new determination in her eyes – a new fire.

"You should get back out there."

The attempt at an authoritative tone in her voice made him smirk, but there was no way he was leaving her alone in their office now. He pulled his own chair back to his desk, sat down and fired up his computer before smiling softly at his partner.

"They'll find me when they have something."

* * *

The next couple of hours passed with them working in near silence, save for the odd question asked here and there. Liz kept her mind focused, writing a list of any and everything she could remember about the last four years since first meeting Tom. Every single time he spent away from her, every vacation or job interview out of the city was written down and slid the pad over on to her partners desk. Ressler had continuously shot glances at her every other minute since they'd started working as if he was afraid she'd start crumbling again. He'd spent the remaining time he wasn't staring at his partner looking into each thing she'd listed for him but coming up empty. He'd failed to match Tom with Reddington or any other major crime in the database on the dates listed and grow increasingly frustrated every time he scratched a location of the list. He made a mental note to have Aram go back and do exactly the same with the names on the passports they still had in evidence.

Liz had long since stopped handing over a nearly complete and detailed, account of her life with Tom, and was now typing up her report on the last few days. She'd already made a statement when she'd been interrogated, but Cooper had poked his head in their office and asked for another, more in depth, one for himself. Ressler had `watched on as she slumped slightly in her chair as she nodded. He had sighed inwardly while she started up her own computer, opened a word document and began typing. Now though, as he listened to the sounds of Liz's fingers repeatedly hitting the keyboard, Ressler was partaking in his own research. He'd spent the last hour combing through the internet for any and all articles surrounding the life and deaths of Daniel Cameron and his family. He discretely jotted down things he deemed of importance but, overall, there wasn't much he could find.

Ressler checked his watch, noting that they'd missed lunch, and no one had come up to him with anything new. He sighed inwardly at the thought of this, knowing that it probably wasn't a good thing they hadn't. He shot another glance at Liz; she was rubbing the scar on her wrist and staring blankly at her computer screen. Just as he was about to roll his chair back, there was a soft knock at the door. Liz's head shot up, her eyes wide.

"Come in," Ressler called, loud enough for whoever it was to hear.

The door was pushed open slowly, Aram and Meera entering, each carrying steaming mugs and paper bags. Meera headed straight for Ressler while Aram shoved the door closed. "Hey, we thought you could do with a pick me up."

"Thanks." Ressler gave her a brief smile as she placed one of the mugs and bags she was holding in front of him. She nodded and backed away to the window.

"Here you go, Agent Keen." Aram handed Liz her own mug, along with two of the bags he was holding.

"Thank you, Aram."

The four occupants of the room ate in silence for a few minutes, with Ressler waiting for any hint of the real reason why they'd brought lunch up to them, instead of just asking if they wanted anything. He noticed how Aram kept shooting Liz concerned looks, but she didn't seem to notice, she'd already started typing up her report for Cooper again. Coffee and bagel now gone; Ressler figured the silence had gone on for too long. He cleared his throat, eyes flicking to Liz as he spoke.

"Got anything for us?"

Aram and Meera shot each other a look, as if they were having a silent argument over whether or not whatever they had to say should be said in front of Liz or not. Liz seemingly had the same thought; she was staring at him, blue eyes piercing his, begging to be kept in the loop. He nodded and she visibly relaxed. They waited a few seconds before Meera shrugged, waving a hand to Aram.

"You go first," she said, leaning against the wall.

Aram's demeanour faltered for a second before a he managed to stutter, "Are – are you sure?" Meera nodded, and Ressler was sure the man was not looking forward to what was coming at all. "I – alright. I looked in to the two fires like you asked, Agent Ressler, and I – well I ..." he trailed off, looking down.

"Aram?" Liz's voice was soft and encouraging and he looked up at her, nodding.

"I couldn't find any fires with your name listed as a victim," he said quickly. Ressler looked to Meera, who nodded in confirmation that it was indeed true. He groaned under his breath and glanced again at Liz, who was expressionless, waiting for Aram to continue. "There were five hundred and seven fires listed across all states for that day; four hundred and twenty five of which were industrial. The remaining seventy two didn't fit the profile at all. Either the fire you were in wasn't reported, wasn't actually in the States, or -"

"Or the name Elizabeth Scott wasn't the one I was born with." Aram lowered his head while Liz turned to Ressler, giving him a tight smile. "Looks like your theory is shaping up to be more than just that."

In all honesty, Ressler felt a little sick. It wasn't often he hated being right, but this was one of those times. He knew she wouldn't want to talk about any of this while the others were still in the room as he kept quiet and let her think over it. Aram didn't say anything else, just stepped back and tried to melt into the corner behind Meera, who had just pushed away from the wall and threw the packaging of her lunch away.

"That's not all. I've been able to access more on Justin Warren."

Ressler sat straighter in his seat at that, but Liz didn't move, just stared at her computer again. He nodded to Meera. "Go on."

"He volunteered for the operation." Ressler tilted his head, intrigued. "He was originally assigned to another case but as soon as Reddingtons names was thrown into the mix, he volunteered to be reassigned, demanded more like apparently. He worked for nearly two years trying to track Reddington down before finally going rogue and 'dying'. According to his file, he was reprimanded at least once a week for going off book and using force." Ressler raised an eyebrow at that, and Meera rolled her eyes. "More so than our superiors usually allow."

He smirked at her, then turned serious. "They let him continue though?"

Meera shrugged. "He kept bringing in legit leads that always checked out apparently. His superiors eventually got too suspicious though, and they found him to be in contact with a former associate of Reddingtons, Ricardo Lopez, something which he failed to write up about or mention at debriefings." She paused briefly, taking a sip of her drink before starting again. "From what's on file, Warren got wind that they were going to pull him from the investigation because they suspected he'd gone rogue. He faked his death; rigged his boat to explode, somehow made it look like Reddingtons doing. Despite a body never being found, the agency had no actual proof to say he was actually still alive. An eye has been kept open for him but, until now, there's been nothing."

Ressler stood and started pacing, allowing everything Meera had just said to filter in his brain, knowing all the while that if he could barely make sense of it all, there was no way Liz could. He took a few seconds before sitting on the edge of his partners desk, almost as if he was attempting to shield her from view. "How the hell did he manage to live a seemingly perfect life with Liz for more than three years without anyone noticing?"

He didn't expect an answer, but Meera still said, "I have no idea."

The whole time Liz had stayed quiet behind him. Ressler knew that she's taken the new information hard, having moved his hand behind him to steady himself on the desk she'd instantly grabbed on to it. Aram, still in his corner, cleared his throat.

"Are you okay, Agent Keen?"

"I'm fine." Her voice was strained, enough for Meera to understand that it was time to leave them alone.

"We better get back to work," she said while Aram opened the door. She turned back just before the door closed fully. "Oh, Ressler, Jenkins called in; he and Bates are running down a lead."

Ressler raised an eyebrow. "With?"

"One of the teachers who had the same days off. Probably nothing."

Ressler nodded stiffly. "Okay, good jobs guys." As soon as the door closed behind them, Ressler spun himself to face Liz, their hands still interlocked. "You don't fine, Liz."

"I'm and profiler for the FBI, Don," she said slowly, gripping his hand a little tighter and looked up at him. "Top of my class as Quantico, yet I couldn't spot that my husband was a fake – and I've known him for over four years. He's former CIA! How could I not see it?"

"You're not the only one who didn't, CIA are well trained." She made to say something, but he stopped her. "No, Liz, listen. We had him under investigation here and no one spotted it either. Whether he asked to be reassigned or not, they never would have given him Reddingtons case unless he was good enough to keep his cover. I don't know why he went rogue, but he didn't go rogue with Reddington. I'm gonna look into Lopez, see what I can find out, see if it's possible for Tom to still be working with him now."

"Hopefully you'll be able to." Liz wiped a few stray tears off her cheeks as Ressler released her hand and headed for his own desk. He bent down and grabbed his keys from the top draw before turning back to his partner.

"Why don't you head out?" He placed the keys on the table in front of her. "Take these, make yourself at home, watch a movie and have a beer."

Liz eyed the keys before smiling as she pocketed them. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Trusting me alone in your apartment, sure I won't snoop?"

Ressler laughed, but his cheeks were now tinged with pink. "I've been through yours."

Liz's eyes widened considerably as she realised _where_ he meant. "My bedroom?"

"Your dresser." Ressler laughed again at her. "I learn something new about you every day, Liz. Don't worry," he said, grinning at her as she hid her face in the crook of her elbow. "I'm the only one that looked in _that_ particular drawer."

"Well," she said, her voice muffled. "I think that's my cue to leave, before I die of embarrassment."

Liz stood and gathered her things, ensuring Resslers keys where safely stowed away. She leant over her computer, clicked a few buttons and emailed her barely finished report to Cooper, hoping it would suffice. Ressler helped her slip on her jacket when she was finished.

"Want me to walk you to your car?" he offered, but already knowing that she wouldn't accept.

"You've got work to do, just..." she glance quickly at the door, as if someone was standing there. "Distract everyone so I can leave?"

Ressler sighed inwardly as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "They won't say anything to you, Liz." ' _Not to your face, anyway_ ', he added silently; knowing most of their colleagues would mutter and share glances until she was out of sight before breaking into full blown conversation.

"Please?"

She was looking at him dead in the eye, her own shining blue orbs, that he found unable to say no to, begging for him to agree. Ressler could only imagine how she was feeling with everything that was going on and sighed, nodding to her.

"Alright." She smiled at him and kissed his cheek. He felt himself turn red but chose to ignore it and open the door, leaving Liz inside as he walked into the war room and coming to a stop at the main table. "Right. Status report, go."

As everyone came to crowd around him, Ressler caught sight of Liz leaving their office out the corner of his eye. He focused back to the matter at hand when Aram started speaking.

"Jenkins called, Agent Ressler; they're on their way back now."

Ressler nodded in acknowledgement. "Lead pan out?"

"He, ugh, didn't say." Ressler noticed that Aram's attention was no longer on him. "Is Agent Keen -"

Ressler groaned and cut him off. "Focus, Aram." He turned to Meera and the others. "Anyone else?"

"Still waiting for my contact to get back to me about Ricardo Lopez," Meera said instantly. Ressler motioned for her to continue. "I'm meeting him in an hour to get, what I hope, will be the CIAs full reports on the investigation in to Reddington."

Ressler gave her a tight lipped smile, showing that he was pleased with her progress. "Take Agent Lee with you; she can drive while you go through them. I want those reports summarised before you get back, so-"

"So I can give you a full rundown as soon as I get through the door? Got it." She rolled her eyes and checked her watch. "Not my first time, Ressler."

Ressler growled under his breath as he looked round at those who'd yet to give him anything. They shook their heads and he waved them away, unimpressed by their lack of new information. His phone buzzed gently in his pocket and he couldn't stop the half smile from appearing at the name of his partner on the screen.

****

**_*Thank for, Don. I owe you – again. Let me know what time you're heading out and I'll have dinner ready.*_ **

Ressler cringed inwardly as he got to the end. She'd told him more than once how terrible her skills in the kitchen were. Did he really want to let her loose in there?

****

**_*You're cooking?*_ **

"Something important?"

Ressler spun round, not realising Meera was still standing beside him. She smirked at his reaction and managed to catch a glimpse of the name on the screen.

"Dinner plans," he said, tilting the phone ever so slightly away from her as it buzzed again.

****

**_*God no, I value our friendship too much to risk giving you food poisoning, I'll order in. Any preferences?*_ **

He allowed himself an inward smile before shooting back a reply and shoving the phone back in his pocket. He looked up and found both Meera and Aram staring at him, much like they had earlier when he'd appeared with a lipstick mark on his cheek. He groaned, knowing what would happen now.

"So," Meera said, smirking again. Aram remained quiet. "You and -"

"Don't even go there," he growled, making Aram flinch. Meera just took it in her stride, shrugging as she moved to Aram’s side. Ressler sighed and shook his head. "What do we know about the Cameron’s?"

He stared expectantly at the computer tech, but Aram didn't make eye contact with him until Meera elbowed him in the back. "What? Oh, right, sorry." Aram blushed furiously as he clicked on the relevant information and displayed it on the screen. "He was English, she was a French National turned British citizen when she married him. Their daughter was born just six months after the date of their wedding. Mr Cameron was a high ranking member of the British Parliament, while Mrs Cameron was a housewife. Unless you want me to hack into the British database, I can't tell you much more than that."

On a normal day, Resslers conscious would scream at him not to do it, to just play by the book. But today was not a normal day. Something was telling him that there was a lot more to this whole thing than they would find out by the legal channels, and he was worried that they'd run out of time before something serious happened to Liz. He squared his shoulders and nodded. "Do it. I want every single detail of their lives. We need to know why they were connected to Reddington."

Aram looked a little taken aback, as if he didn't actually expect Ressler to agree. He nodded and began typing furiously. "As you wish."

"What are you thinking?" Meera raised an eyebrow at him.

"I don't know," he said quietly. "Something doesn't feel right. When Jenkins and Bates get back, have them come find me."

He spun on his heel and made for his office when he called him out. "Where are you going?"

He turned but didn't stop, instead choosing to walk backwards to his office. "To go through the files I still have on Reddington; see if there's a connection to England."

"You think there could be?" He noted that she didn't sound convinced.

He shrugged and jogged the final few metres, shouting over his shoulder and coming to a stop at the door.. "Worth a look. There has to be something, if the CIA can find it, we can too."

He entered the office and closed the door before he got a response from her. Ressler looked over to Liz's discarded chair and messy desk and noticed how empty the room felt without her there, even though he knew she was only gone for the afternoon. He shook himself slightly and headed for his filing cabinet on the other side of the room, going straight for the bottom drawer. The bottom drawer always has been, and always will be, dedicated to Raymond Reddington. It was the fullest drawer and no matter where his office was situated, the way he organised his files never changed. He pulled out everything pre-dating the man’s betrayal of his country and went for anything to do with Reddingtons time in Navy intelligence. Painstakingly slowly, he began to read through the files, making sure he didn't miss anything and taking notes where relevant. Ressler had originally thought that, after over five years of being the lead case agent, he's have everything memorised. But he didn't. There was just too much, yet at the same time, not enough to understand. Ressler wasn't even quarter of the way through when there was a knock at the door, and someone poked their head in.

"Agent Ressler, you have a minute?"

Ressler looked up to find that Jenkins and Bates had returned from their trip to the elementary school. He hoped they had something interesting to add to the case. "Sure," he said, beckoning them in. "What have you got?"

The two agents looked at each other before Bates spoke up. "Tom Keen was having an affair."

Ressler felt his heart sink. He really wanted to punch the bastard knowing that, when he told Liz, it would break her heart that little bit more. He threw the pen he was still holding down on the desk. "Ah shit, with?"

"Music teacher," Jenkins said as he checked the name written on a piece of paper. "Maria Lopez."

Ressler shit straighter in his seat. "Lopez?"

They both nodded, and Jenkins took the reins on relaying what they'd learnt. "Yes, Sir. They each take a sick day or more a month for the past year to meet at a motel six blocks from the school. Desk clerk confirmed and said some months they'd come on the weekends too, but sometimes he wouldn't see them at all.

Ressler stood and pushed by them to the doorway, wanting desperately to connect her and the other Lopez together. He poked his head out and raised his voice. "Aram!" The computer techs head shot up, eyes wide. "Maria Lopez, works at the elementary school with Keen." Aram nodded his head in understanding and went back to typing. Ressler scanned the room for Meera next, making eye contact with her and nodding. "Call you guy; I want everything on Ricardo Lopez now." He pulled his head back in and gave each of the two men a brief smile. "Good job you two. Get back out there and write it up."

"Yes, Sir," they said in unison and retreated back to the war room.

Ressler sat back at his desk, head in his hands. He was beyond glad that he'd sent Liz back to his. There was no doubt in his mind that she would take the news of Toms infidelity hard. Maybe not as hard as finding out his true identity, but hard enough. Ressler sighed and pulled the files back towards him. He spent the next hour combing through every single piece of information he had, barely stopping to take a break. With every page turned, his hope at finding the connection dwindled that little bit more. With each page turned, he grew more and more frustrated at the lack of progress the team had made since that morning. Ressler dreaded having to go back to his apartment and tell Liz what they _didn't_ have. He was fast reaching the end of Reddington service information and he had still yet to find any connection to England or the Cameron’s, that was, until something caught his eye.

Scanning the page containing everything from nineteen eighty-four, Ressler noticed that Reddington had spent a very brief three week period of time at a Naval base in the South of France. Didn't Aram say Mrs Cameron was French? It was such a small detail, so small it could have easily been over-looked, yet it stuck out to him like a sore thumb. Could this be the link they'd been searching for or just a complete coincidence? There was nothing to say that he'd been in the same place as the woman but that didn't mean he wasn't going to dig a little deeper with this new snippet of information.

He pushed away from his desk and made for the door, poking his head out and checking Aram was still working at his desk. He was. "Aram," he called, gained the man’s attention. "Come here, please?"

Aram looked a little concerned but nodded and stood. Ressler ducked back in his office and barely had to wait thirty seconds before Aram walked in, closing the door closed behind him.

"What can I do for you, Agent Ressler?"

"Cameron’s wife, what part of France was she from?"

He waited as Aram tried to remember. "Somewhere in the South, I think." Ressler held up the file and showed him the name of the small town he'd highlighted. Aram nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, here. Did you find something linking her to Mr Reddington?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. Until he had something more definitive, he couldn't count on this being anything more than coincidence. "Can you find out the month she moved to England, when she Married Cameron and when the daughter was born and get back to me?"

"Give me two minutes."

"Thanks. Oh," he called out as Aram was about to leave. "Did you get anything on Maria Lopez?"

Aram nodded, and Resslers spirits lifted slightly. "Born and raised in DC. Single mother, no siblings and father wasn't listed at birth. Nothing to connect her to Mr Lopez and the mom died three years ago."

Ressler leaned back with a groan – that really wasn't what he wanted to hear. "Right, thanks."

Aram hurried out, leaving the door wide open in his wake. Ressler skimmed through the rest of the files on his desk, not finding anything to relate as a possible link, not that he expected to now. He was refiling them into the cabinet when Aram returned, notebook in hand.

"Agent Ressler? Mrs Cameron applied for British citizenship in August of nineteen eighty-four. She and Mr Cameron were married in the December of that year and Jennifer Cameron was born the following April."

Shamefully, it took Ressler longer than it should have to connect the dots. When he did, he lent back in his chair and rubbed his forehead. "Same day as Liz?"

"I believe so."

Where Ressler had had a few reservations about actually believing Liz was the deceased Jennifer Cameron, now he had no doubt. There were now too many links for him to put it down to being coincidence... all he had to do was piece together the truth. He honestly thought he'd be far happier with the progress, but the truth was that now he dreaded having to relay this to his partner. He sighed again and looked up at Aram, who was still standing in front of him.

"Meera left yet?"

Aram nodded. "Said she'd call when she's done."

Ressler checked his watch, noting that it was fast approaching the end of the working day. "Go home, Aram," he said tiredly, the order startling the younger man. "Tell everyone else too. Get a good night’s sleep and we'll start afresh in the morning."

"You – you sure?" Aram stared at him as if he'd grown two heads.

Ressler nodded, standing and ushering Aram out of his office. "Yeah, I'll let Meera and Cooper know."

Aram tilted his head at him, but ultimately decided it was best not to argue. "See you tomorrow then. Goodnight."

"Night."

He watched Aram walk away, telling everyone as he passed what Ressler had said. The truth was that he needed to quiet of being one of the only ones left to think about his next move. There was no doubt that he would have to tell Liz everything that they'd discovered in the last few hours, but at the same time he needed to verify each piece of new information before he upset her further. It wouldn't be fair to tell her something as big as this for it to then not be true, he wouldn't do that to her.

Something else was nagging at the back of his mind. The timeline. It seemed that there was a very _very_ short time span between the couple marrying and their daughter being born. While it wasn't the sixties, Ressler knew that having a baby out of wedlock was still a controversial thing and, based on a recalculation, he knew that Charlotte Cameron would have already be carrying her daughter when she left France for England. He couldn't find any indication as to how long the Cameron’s had been together before they got married but he was guessing that it wasn't very long at all. The fact that Reddington had been in the same town less than three months before the woman upped and moved really didn't sit right with him. The fact that Reddington had taken such an interest in Liz's life, seemingly since – or possibly before – the fire didn't sit right with him. Their connection ran far deeper than anyone of them, except Reddington, knew, but he was determined to find out.

* * *

Ressler parked in his allotted space underneath his apartment building and took the elevator to the fourth floor. He'd called Meera and got her to drop off the files for him to take home before sending her off to have dinner with her family. He was exhausted as he trudged the few feet to his apartment door, ringing the bell and waiting to be let in.

The door swung open, revealing Liz once again dressed in his sweats and sweater, hair in a messy bun and smirking at him. "Does it feel weird having someone else letting you in to your own apartment?"

"More than you'd think." Ressler grinned at her as she moved aside to let him in. The smell of take-out hit him, and he found his mouth watering. "Italian?"

"Haven't had it in a while."

"Smells great."

"Good." She led him through to the living room, where she already had their dinner set out on his coffee table, with a beer each sitting next to their plates. They ate in silence for a few minutes, savouring the peace of each other’s company before Ressler noticed that Liz was itching to know what had happened after she left. No sooner had he thought it, she asked it. "Anything new?"

"Not much," he mumbled, a mouthful of food. Deciding, selfishly to tell her about Tom first, because he just did not want to start the conversations of the Cameron’s tonight, he set his now empty plate down and turned to her, knowing how she was going to react. "Ugh, Liz... Jenkins and Bates did discover that Tom was, ugh..."

"Having an affair?"

Ressler stared at her, dumbfounded. "How did you -"

She shrugged; sadness etched in her eyes. "Nothing will surprise me anymore. How long?"

He didn't really want to say, but he knew he should. "A year," he finally said, quietly.

Her sadness turned very quickly in to rage. She stood and started pacing. "That bastard! That sneaky son of a bitch!"

"Not exactly the worst thing he's done though," he said, in a sorry attempt to calm her down.

"So not the point right now."

"I know." He grabbed her hand and pulled her back down next to him, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as she unconsciously leaned into him. "Hey, Meera got the CIAs file on their Reddington investigation. Wanna take a look while I hit the head?"

"Sure."

He stood and tossed her the file from where he'd left it on the table before heading to the bathroom. On the pretence of being too tired to be bothered, he hadn't removed his suit jacket when he'd come in, for the sole purpose of what he was about to do. He removed an evidence bag from the inside pocket and grabbed the dish cloth Liz had used around her bloodied hand the previous night and placed it inside. He had a theory, and he'd be damned if he dared mention it to the woman on his couch before trying to prove it. He slipped the used bag back inside his pocket and went to join Liz, who was still reading through the file. She looked up as he walked in.

"The while investigation started because of a deathbed confession. There was no indication before that that Reddington was involved. The CIA still doesn't have proof that he and the Cameron’s were connected in any way. None of this makes sense.

"And it probably won't until we have more to go on."

"The CIA have had this case for years." She sounded thoroughly defeated.

"You're exhausted, Keen." He took the file from her hands and tossed it to the table and gave her a little nudge in the side. "Go to bed."

She rolled her eyes at him but smiled. "You're sitting on my bed."

He shook his head, pointing to his room. "Take mine."

"I can't do -" she started, but he cut her off.

"Yes you can." He made himself comfortable by shuffling down slightly and kicking off his shoes. "It's either that or the floor, and trust me, it isn’t as comfortable as it looks."

She seemed as though she wanted to know why he'd slept on his own floor but thought better of it. Instead, she smiled and kissed him lightly on the cheek before getting up. "Fine. Thank you. Night, Don."

"Night, Liz," he called after her as she disappeared.

Ressler waited until he heard the bedroom door close and the bed creak as she got in to pull out his phone. Scrolling through his contacts, he found the one he needed, the one he hadn't called in a few years and had no idea if they'd still want to help him. He pressed down on the call button and, after five rings, it was answered.

"Hey, I need a favour."


	12. Chapter 12

Neither occupant of the apartment slept particularly well that night, While Liz had tossed and turned with the revelation that she may be the daughter of a murdered British politician and his wife that everyone thought dead, Ressler just laid awake for hours debating with himself over whether or not he should actually tell his partner of his suspicions and plan to compare her DNA to Reddingtons. On one hand, if he did tell her, she'd likely freak out and over think the possibility without and solid answer or proof. On the other, if he didn't tell her and it turned out to be true, would she feel betrayed by him? Would she accuse him of lying to her like everybody else? He didn't want that, but, by three in the morning though, Ressler knew it was a risk he had to take.

* * *

The tension of the war room luckily hadn't followed Liz and Ressler up to their office when he'd finally joined her after the morning briefing. Liz had been going over everything they knew so far about Justin Warren, Ricardo Lopez and the Cameron family deaths when he'd walked in and threw himself in to his chair, huffing loudly. She knew he’d been reprimanded for being late (he'd left his phone at home and only realised when they'd arrived), but Liz wondered if there was something she was missing. She was about to ask him but he just shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. While he left to get them a fresh coffee, Liz returned to the notes she was making.

Ressler was back five minutes later, fresh, steaming coffee in each hand and they settled in to comfortable silence. Just before midday, Aram called Ressler out to say he'd finally been able to connect Maria and Ricardo Lopez together – he was once married to her mothers uncles cousin and she'd grown up calling him 'uncle' until she and her mother had moved to Washington and cut contact. Liz didn't for one minute believe that the woman her husband was screwing happened to be related to someone from his and Reddingtons past was coincidence – and Ressler agreed. Aram was still trying to break in to the British database but was so far having no luck. All they had was the CIA report but Ressler was sure that wasn't everything.

Secluded by her own thoughts, Liz's injured hand pulsed uncomfortably as she gripped a pen tightly, her knuckles growing white. The lack of information they still had was frustrating yet there was literally nothing she could do about it. She wasn't able to go out and work the case herself, and Ressler telling her every little detail was already more than what she should be allowed. In any case, if she even attempted to go it alone, Ressler would likely have her ass. No, this time she had to play by the rules... even if it did mean waiting for answers.

She lost track of time as she continued flipping through the case files and didn't notice Ressler returning and placing another steaming mug of coffee in front of her. It was only when a balled up piece of paper hit her right in the eye that Liz jumped and looked to find her partner suppressing laughter. She narrowed her eyes at him and tossed the paper ball back, missing him by an inch. Ressler chuckled.

"Sorry," he said, and to his credit, he did look sincere. "But I've been calling you for the last minute."

"Oh?" Liz said, wiping under her eye where it had started to run.

He passed her over a tissue. "You wanna stay again tonight?"

"Oh right, my bad – I just got caught up in this," she said, motioning to the files laid out in front of her. Ressler nodded in understanding. "I think putting me up for two nights is enough, don't you? You don't have to keep doing it – I can find a motel."

"I'd rather you didn't." Ressler fired up his computer as he spoke. He glanced at her before setting about doing more of his own research. "And I don't mind. It's nice having someone there after a long day."

Liz smiled and cocked her head to the side. They'd come so far since first meeting, and she knew she was beyond lucky to have him by her side. "Even if you've already spent all day camped out in here with me?" she joked, but there was the tiniest hint of apprehension in her voice though, if Ressler noticed, he didn't draw attention to it. He did, however, give her and full and genuine smile as he nodded his assurance. Liz grinned in return. "Okay, but only if you're sure?"

Ressler rolled his eyes now and Liz laughed. "Absolutely."

"Thank you, Don." Liz said, sincerely. "It really means a lot."

"It's honestly not a problem. What are friends for?" They shared another smile before both going back to their respective tasks. They'd worked again in silence for nearly ten minutes when Resslers phone rang and interrupted the calm of the room. Liz looked up in time to see him frown at the caller ID before answering and placing the phone to his ear.

"Ressler... seriously, already?... And you're a hundred percent sure?" Ressler looked up and caught Liz's eye. She looked down quickly, feeling a little ashamed for eavesdropping... but she knew her partner well enough to know that tone of his voice meant something was very wrong. She watched through her lashes as Ressler rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and sighed. "Shit, alright... No it's not mine, Delilah." Liz fought the temptation to look up at him again - who was Delilah? "Yeah, thanks... I know I owe you one alright? How about I book you a table at that expensive place you love?... Good. Bye."

Ressler ended the call and groaned loudly, leaning back in his chair with his hands over his face. Liz chose to look up at him now.

"Everything okay?" she asked lightly, though the level of curiosity in her voice betrayed her.

She expected him to smile or laugh at the question, but instead his blue eyes darkened as he looked at her, a grim look on his face now.

"No, far from it." Ressler shook his head, looking down at the phone gripped in his hand. Liz was about to speak again but Ressler forcibly pushing his chair away from his desk and standing stopped her. She stared at him as he looked out their window at the war room. Liz planned on giving him a few minutes but the moment he turned to face her, she knew there was no point. "You trust me right, Liz?"

"With my life." She didn't even need to think about it, and he gave her the briefest hint of a smile.

Ressler took a deep breath before pulling Liz from her chair and dragging her by the hand to the door. "Come with me." He let go of her as they came in to view of their colleagues and Liz was surprised at how much she noticed the loss of warmth and comfort from his hold. While Liz tried to ignore the looks from their peers, Ressler didn't notice or didn't care that everyone was staring at them. He led them to a scarcely used stairwell – one Liz didn't even realise existed until a few weeks ago when she'd needed a quiet corner. Ressler pushed open the door, glancing behind them before taking Liz's hand in his again and all but dragging her down to the floor below. She wanted to know what was going on but, until that point, she hadn't felt it the right time to ask. Now, however, as he led them through yet another hallway she didn't recognise, Liz spoke.

"Where are we going?" she asked, slightly out of breath from being dragged around. "I don't think I've ever been to this part of the Blacksite before."

"This entire floor," Ressler said as they turned another corner. "Is dedicated to storage for pretty much everything from the refurb a few months ago." He paused for the briefest of seconds; the memory of _why_ they'd had to move to a new location haunting them both. Liz gripped his hand that little bit tighter, prompting him to move on. "Ugh, not to mention, it's home to the paper copies of every case file the Bureau had before we went digital. No one likes to come down here if they can avoid it."

"So why are _we_ down here then?" Liz questioned as Ressler led them deeper through the hallway. She wasn't scared of the dark, but the silence and lack of light gave off an eerie feeling Liz wasn't too sure of.

Ressler sighed. "Because I don't want to be overheard." He didn't stop until they came to the room at the very end of the hall. "In here," he said as he forced open the door and pushed Liz inside, following quickly and closing the door behind him. He fumbled around to find the light switch, bumping into Liz before he managed to locate it. As soon as he flicked it on, the room was bathed in a dim orange glow, barely illuminating the corner of the closet sized room.

"Okay," Liz said, moving to inspect the contents of one of the boxes on the shelves, finding it full of paper towels. She turned to him again, hands on her hips, mimicking his usual stance. "You have me all alone in a cramped and darkened janitors closet, Ressler. If I didn't know you as well as I do, I'd think you wanted something very out of character for you." She smiled at him, hoping he'd return the favour but he didn't, instead he couldn't even look at her. Liz took a step back. "What's wrong? What's the big secret?"

He looked up at her now, his eyes pleading. "Before I tell you, you have to promise to hear me out and explain everything." Ressler placed a hand on her shoulder. "Got it?"

Liz's eyes widened at the sharpness of his voice. She couldn't recall seeing him quite like this at any point in time... except maybe when he'd been shot. "Don, you're freaking me out," she whispered, looking at him dead in the eye. She didn't like what she saw. Liz took a step back from him. "Oh God, you've found something even worse out about Tom, haven't you?"

She started pacing now and didn't see Resslers face fall at her incorrect suspicions. She became too busy in her own mind trying to figure out what it could be that she forgot her partner was still standing in front of her... and that he'd been calling her name.

"Liz? Liz, stop pacing, please." He grabbed her shoulders to hold her in place. "It's not Tom, alright? You already know as much as I do on that part."

"Then what -"

"Reddington."

There was a few seconds of tense silence before Liz spoke, her voice a whisper. "It's really serious, isn't it? That's why we're down here."

Ressler nodded but found he couldn't quite get the words out. "Liz... he's..."

"He's what?" Liz said, her voice raised and getting higher with each frustrated word. "The sole reason we're in this mess? Not really a criminal? Secretly the rightful heir to the English throne? My biological father?" Liz watched Resslers face fall this time and knew she'd hit the nail on the head. "Oh my God."

* * *

Reddington and Dembe had landed in London little under three hours before pulling up outside the quaint building. To those passing on the outside, it was nothing more than a privately owned an accounting firm, but to those allowed through the locked front doors, it was much, much more. Granted, there wasn't more than a reception area with adjoining office, but with scanners and other mechanisms in place to block all wavelengths, manners of outside communications and any form of technology from being used, it was one of the safest places to conduct business. It took a full ten minutes to pass through the security measures in place, but once done, they found themselves seated on the lone couch in the reception area with nothing to occupy themselves with but that mornings copy of ' _The Sun_ '. The two of them stayed in silence, neither of them feeling the need to fill the void of communication. Almost an hour after arriving, the door to the office opened, revealing a young, red headed woman dressed in all black and an older man wearing a deep blue suit. The man's presumably shoulder length hair, streaked with grey, was tied at the base of his skull and his equally streaked beard was trimmed to neat precision against the skin of his chin... and, by the look on his face, he was not at all happy to see Reddington.

The woman walked straight past without giving any acknowledge to their presence. Reddington waited until she'd left before standing, motioning for Dembe to join him. The man had seated himself behind him desk before they'd even made it to the door, making his feelings perfectly clear. Reddington, however, walked in the office and straight to the desk, placing his fedora upon it with a smile on his face.

"Sebastian, so glad you could meet me at such short notice."

The man behind the desk gave a short grunt in disdain. "Wasn't sure I had much of a choice in the matter, Mr Reddington." His voice carried a faded accent, showing how long he'd been in the country. He eyed Dembe standing in front of the now closed door, arms crossed over his chest and decided it was best not to comment further. Instead, he gestured to Reddington to sit and plastered an overly fake smile on his face and leaned back in his own chair. "Nevertheless, you are welcome. What can I do for you?"

Reddington, still smiling, entwined his fingers, rested them on his knee and looked Sebastian dead in the eye. "I need access to my locker in the vault."

"The vault..." Sebastian said, his eyes flickering and his smile faltering. It was clear he hadn't expected his request. "Today?"

"No, next year," Reddington said, the sarcasm dripping from his tongue and allowing his eyes to roll. "Yes, today."

"Mr Reddington," Sebastian started, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He could no longer look him in the eye as he spoke. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure that will be possible."

Reddingtons smile disappeared in an instant and his eyes darkened. "I'm not a man that likes to hear the word no, Sebastian; just ask your father."

"I'm well aware," the man said through gritted teeth, clearly remembering a past experience with the man in front of him. He cleared his throat and attempted to smile but could only muster barely more than an upturn of the corners of his mouth. "The problem is security out of our control has been increased tenfold in the last year due to break-ins around the area. Upgrades are being made and we are under strict instructions not to allow _anyone_ access. Even negotiations have to be made weeks in advance."

"You have an hour to get me in to the vault, Sebastian," Reddington said, standing and placing his fedora on his head and his tone leaving no room for refusal. "If you don't, Dembe and I will be personally escorting you home for the family reunion you keep neglecting to attend."

A look of fear passed across Sebastian's face as he visibly shrunk in his seat. "You wouldn't -"

"Wouldn't I?" Reddington moved to the door as Dembe opened it from him. He turned at the last second. "One hour."

The two of them left then, closing the office door behind them. Neither spoke as they retrieved the items taken from them when they'd first entered the building. They continued to move in silence even after hitting fresh air. It wasn't until they reached their car, both seated in their respective seats that Dembe spoke, looking at Reddington through the wing mirror.

"If he can't get us in to the vault, Raymond?"

"Then we'll have to find our own way in," Reddington said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

They drove in silence towards the place they were staying, Dembe navigating the roads with such experience it was as though he had lived there himself for years. They drove for less than five minutes before the phone in Dembe's jacket rang. He pulled it out, glancing at the caller ID before passing it behind him. "It's Gerald."

Reddington answered the call, pressing the phone to his ear. "I'm listening."

" _Well hello to you to. I hacked the systems to flag anyone running any sort of tests on your DNA like you asked me to months ago, and I got a hit._ " There was a pause and Reddington could almost feel the mans eyeroll through the phone at his lack of response. " _It's from early this morning my time and it's only just come through. A small, private lab in DC ran two anonymous samples against each other, one of which was yours._ "

"Genetics Limited." It wasn't a question, but a confirmation. He'd already been informed of Agent Resslers early morning trip... having had one of his men follow him after he'd left Lizzie at the Post Office.

Gerald sighed down the phone. " _How could you possibly know that?_ "

"Erase it from their systems and yours. You'll receive my check in the mail." Reddington ended the call without waiting for a response. He tossed the phone in the seat next to him, closing his eyes. It should have been clear to him what Resslers plan was – and now his secret was out.

"Raymond?"

Reddington caught Dembe’s eye in the mirror and sighed. "Turn the car around, Dembe, I don't think we'll have time to wait for Sebastian. It seems I have underestimated Agent Ressler; he appears to have more friends than I thought."

Dembe instantly diverted their route, turning the car back on themselves. "Elizabeth?"

"She knows."

* * *

Liz backed herself against the shelves behind her as she watched Ressler close his eyes and lower his head. She could tell by the way he was acting that it was the truth. Her chest began to tighten, as if someone had tied a rope around her and pulled until they couldn't anymore. Her vision blurred and her eyes filled with tears as she began gasping for breath. Liz could faintly hear Ressler trying to speak to her, but it was as though he was merely talking to her from the opposite end of a tunnel. Everything had turned in to a blur... until Liz felt herself being pulled back against Resslers chest, his arms trapping her to him. She tried to push him off, the feeling of being unable to breath becoming overwhelming, but he only tightened his hold and lowered them both so they were kneeling on the floor.

"Keen, you need to calm down. Please, Liz. Match my breathing, okay?" She couldn't even nod to him, but she did try and focus on the steady rise and fall of his chest pressed against her. Ever so slowly, her breathing started to even out. "In and out, in and out. You're doing great. You're gonna be fine, just breath, alright? Take nice deep breaths."

It took several minutes, but Liz slowly calmed down enough for Ressler to release his hold of her. He made to shuffle away from her, to give her space but Liz gripped on to his arm, like he was her lifeline. She didn't turn to face him, but leant back and continued to focus on his breathing. "I ca-can't... believe this... he li-lied... to me," she said in a broken whisper.

"I know, Liz." Ressler rested his chin on top of her head, tightening the arm wrapped round her. "I'm so sorry."

Liz froze at his words. She shrugged his arm off and spun round so she was on her knees facing him. "How did you know?" She questioned, trying – and failing – to figure out how he could possibly have found out. "How the hell did you find out?"

Ressler shrugged, but didn't quite look her in the eye. "I had a hunch, it paid off."

"Not good enough," Liz said, furiously wiping away tears from her cheeks. "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me before?"

She was giving him the same look she had when she'd first told him about everything. He sighed, shaking his head slightly. "The way you reacted when I told you who I thought you really were, the hurt I saw in your eyes?" She deflated a little and the anger that had started to build evaporated instantly at his words. She cast her eyes down before covering her face with her hands. Ressler pulled them away, taking them in his own. "Liz, I didn't want to tell you anything until I had actual evidence. We still don't know for sure if you're really Jennifer Cameron but I am certain you were both born on the same day of the same year."

Liz looked at him, tears flowing again. "So this is Reddingtons connection to the Camerons – me. I'm the missing link." She sniffed, trying to smile, but finding it impossible to muster one. "Your hunch?"

Ressler moved from his knees to sit with his back flat against the door, Liz following suit a second later. He sighed, wrapping an arm round her shoulders and pulled her to him again. "He was briefly stationed in the South of France, the same town as Mrs Cameron. Thought it was too much of a coincidence, y'know? I put two and two together; did some math and worked out she would have already been pregnant when she moved."

"I guess it makes sense." Liz's voice was barely audible as she spoke. She curled in to his side, pulling her knees to his chest. "How did you even do this? There's no way you could have gone through the Bureau without drawing attention."

"No one here knows except you and me." Liz shifted again to look at him, eyes wide. He gave her a tight smile. "I don't plan on shouting this from the rooftops, and I didn't think you would either." Liz shook her head and pleaded with her eyes for him to go on. He shrugged, looking away from her. "I have a friend who works in a lab; she ran the test anonymously and no questions asked."

"So," Liz said slowly, trying to fully comprehend what she was being told. "There's only us, abd your friend, that knows about the test?"

"Yes," Ressler said, nodding reassuringly. "But she doesn't know who the samples I gave her belong to."

"She thought one was yours," Liz remembered suddenly. Ressler stared at her and she rolled her eyes. "I heard your end of the conversation." He chuckled lightly before she turned serious again. "How did you get the samples? I know I didn't volunteer anything?"

"No, you didn't." Ressler gave her an almost guilty smile. "But you did leave that dish cloth covered in your blood in my bathroom. I got it last night while you were reading that file from Meera."

"You went back out after I went to bed?"

"No," Ressler shook his head. "I took it to her after I dropped you off this morning."

"So, you didn't leave your phone at home?" Liz said, eyebrows raised.

"Guilty," Ressler said, sighing and rubbing the back of his neck. "I needed an excuse to slip away for a bit... seemed like the easiest option."

"Okay," Liz nodded, accepting his answer. They sat in silence for the next few minutes, Liz comprehending everything she'd been told in her head. She was finding it hard to decide whether or not she was truly surprised Reddington had lied to her. She curled herself further in to Resslers side, hiding her face from him. "What about Reddington's DNA?" she mumbled. "How on Earth did you manage _that_?"

She felt Ressler stiffen and couldn't help but turn to look at him, expecting him to explain but instead she found him avoiding her gaze. His reaction was confusing her, and she needed to know why. "Ressler?"

He still didn't answer, and still refused to look at her. She placed a hand on his arm, encouraging him to tell her. He finally looked at her, and she saw the inner battle he was having with himself behind his eyes and she knew then that he'd put everything on the line to find the truth for her. Ressler opened his mouth a few times, only to close it again when he couldn't find the words. When he did finally speak, his voice was low and barely audible... and full of obvious disbelief at his own actions. "Evidence locker."

Liz eyes widened. Now that was something she was definitely going to find hard to believe. Ressler, for as long as she'd known him, had always been a 'by the book', and very straight when it came to following the rules. For the first time in days, Liz found herself fighting laughter... she just couldn't help herself. "You _stole_ evidence?"

Ressler groaned and rolled his eyes. "I _borrowed_ evidence." Liz snorted, earning herself a nudge from him. "I've already put it back.

"Never thought I'd see the day." Liz patted him on the back.

He shrugged. "Needed to be done."

They lapsed in to silence again. The laughter was short-lived as Liz thought about the seriousness of the situation... of who she really was. "I don't even know what I'm supposed to do now," she murmured. Ressler looked questioningly at her. "I mean, I don't know how to deal with this. Do I call him? Do I wait for him to figure out that I know?"

Ressler shook his head, taking her hand again. "You have the upper hand, Liz. You call the shots."

She opened her mouth to respond but the sound or Resslers phone ringing cut her off. It had been over an hour since they'd come down so it wasn't all that surprising that someone was trying to make contact, but when Ressler pulled out his phone, frowned down at it then showed her the screen, she found her heart racing a little. "Answer it."

He nodded. "Ressler... What are you talking about?" He glanced at Liz, not giving anything away. "How can it just disappear? Of course I didn't do it... Delilah – Alright, alright. Bye."

Ressler shoved his phone back in his pocket, huffing in frustration. Liz watched him as she stood and started pacing. She almost didn't want to ask, but knew she had to. "What's wrong."

He looked at her but kept pacing. "Someone's erased the results and any trace that the test was done in the first place."

There was an accusation behind his words, and Liz understood perfectly. She closed her eyes, throwing her head back with a loud this against the door. "Reddington."

Ressler nodded. "He probably has someone following you day in, day out. Maybe he even has someone following me seeing as you've been staying at my apartment. Not to mention the man has endless guys on his payroll all over the damn place."

"There's no way he doesn't know I know." Liz shook her head and let out a sigh. "There goes my advantage."

Ressler stopped pacing to look at her again, his eyes pitying her. "He still ha s to explain, Liz."

"I don't know how much more I can take, Don." Liz covered her face with her hands so Ressler couldn't see the fresh tears slipping down her cheeks. "Everything is being turned upside down and... and I..."

She trailed off and couldn't continue. She started shaking as her body became overwhelmed by the force of her sobs. Ressler crouched down in front of her, tugging her hands from her face before pulling her to stand with him and wrapping her in a tight hug. "It's okay, Liz."

"But it's not." Liz pushed away from him, backing herself against the shelves. "I'm the daughter of a criminal, a traitor to his country, a despicable man, and not just any old one. I'm Raymond fucking Reddingtons daughter." The force of her words cut through both of them, and it evidently was something neither had considered until now. "The Bureau will cut me off the second they find out and I'll be done."

There were a few seconds pause before Ressler spoke, his voice quiet but sincere." They won't know unless _you_ tell them."

Liz stared at him, wide eyed... disbelieving. "You're not gonna tell Cooper?"

Ressler rolled his eyes. "You think that little of me?" Liz looked guiltily at him and he shook his head, frowning at her. "If we'd found this out in your first week on the job? Hell, I would of removed your gun and badge myself."

His words stung but she knew herself that they were true. "And now?" she asked tentatively, hoping beyond hope she knew they answer.

Ressler gave her a full smile, tilting her head to the side. "You even have to ask?"

Liz let out a breath before letting her head fall against him. "Tell me what I'm supposed to do," she whispered.

Ressler wrapped his arms round her again. "We leave this closet; go back upstairs, and when we get home you call him. You want answers right?"

Liz nodded. "Yeah."

"Then we'll get them," he said, sounding confident. "He has no choice now."

"Thank you."

There was a lot more behind her words and they both knew it. The next few minutes were spent with Ressler holding her steady against his chest as she sobbed away any remaining tears she had. The moment her body stopped shaking she pushed away from him, turning her back as she sniffed and wiped under he eyes with her fingers. When she turned back to face him, Ressler smiled at her.

"You good to go?"

She nodded, then shrugged. "How do I look?" She watched Ressler recoil at the question and she sighed. "Come one, Ressler, tell me if I look like I;ve had a mini break down in a blacksite janitors closet or not."

"Okay," Ressler said, a glint in his eye. "But you want the gentlemans answer or the one from your friend and colleague?"

"Friend."

"You look like you've had a mini break down in a blacksite janitors closet." He grinning widely, earning himself a glare and slap on the chest.

"Ressler!"

"I'm joking." Ressler laughed, turning and digging through one of the boxes of paper towels, handing her one. "You're not that bad, but you probably should take a trip to the restroom first."

"Well thanks." Liz rolled her eyes, taking the towel and dabbing at her cheeks. She looked at the spot on his chest where her head had been and laughed to herself. "You should really change your shirt."

"What! Why?" Ressler said, looking down at himself.

"Mascara."

Ressler groaned and Liz laughed again. He nudged her shoulder lightly. "Damn you woman."

"Lockers first?" Liz asked.

"Yeah." Ressler nodded, opening the door for her and switching off the light. He took her hand and tugged her from the room. "Let's go."

* * *

The hour Reddington had given Sebastian was almost up yet the man had made no attempt to contact him... not that it mattered anymore. The moment Dembe had turned the car around, they'd devised a plan and contacted the relevant people to gain access. The fine details had been worked out in a mere twenty minutes and three quarters of an hour from leaving Sebastian's office, Reddington and Dembe found themselves in 'The Vault'. The Vault was situated in the heavily guarded basement of a derelict London estate... one even squatters didn't dare touch. It was the perfect place to house certain possessions, and if one was spotted arriving, they would simply say they were interested in purchasing the land.

For somewhere protecting the means to destroy a lot of people and ruin many lives, it was surprisingly easy to gain access without all the usual requirements. All he needed was a briefcase full of money and a well devised distraction. Finding Reddingtons locker had itself taken the best part of ten minutes to locate. It had been twenty-five years since he'd last visited his locker... the place had been modified since then.

Reddington was sure his locker must be one of the smallest the Vault offered. Barely large enough to fit a lone filing cabinet and a single person, it was a much tighter squeeze now than it had been all those years ago, giving one a slight feeling of claustrophobia. While Reddington was inside, Dembe stayed just beyond the door keeping watching. They'd managed to wedge the door to the end of the hall closed in case anyone came looking for them... but they knew they wouldn't have long before their distraction failed at keeping the guards at bay. Dembe had figured they may have five minutes to get in, get what they needed and get out... but he was fast growing impatient at Reddingtons lack of speed in rifling through the documents. Shouts could be heard from beyond the door at the end of the hall (which they had locked from the inside). Dembe’s head shot up; they'd barely been there three minutes... they didn't have much time left.

"Raymond," Dembe said, not his usual calm self. "We have to leave."

"One minute, Dembe." Reddington didn't even look up, just continued to pull what seemed to be random pieces of slightly yellowed paper from the drawers. "I need to ensure I leave nothing of importance behind."

"We have barely a minute until they get down here." More shouts could be heard, closer now than they were before. Dembe gritted his teeth as he spoke, clearly not amused at the risk Reddington was taking. "We have to leave. Now."

Dembe was about to forcibly removed Reddington from the minute room, but the man suddenly straightened, slamming the drawer shut and picking up a small stack of papers and exiting. "There, we can go." They moved swiftly to the end of the hall, right beside the door. Dembe unlocked it, checking their path was clear before slipping out and managing to completely miss the hoard of people rushing through behind them. It took them by far a shorter amount of time to get out than it did to get in, and within minutes they were back at the car, buckled in and driving away. Dembe had one eye on the road, while glaring at Reddington through the mirror. Reddington rolled his eyes. "Don't look at me like that, Dembe."

Dembe looked away, the calmness to his voice returning somewhat. "You were risking everything by staying in there."

"I'm aware, but it's time Lizzie knew everything." Reddington sighed, holding up the stack of papers. "This is everything."

"And now?

"Now I have to make a call I was hoping to avoid for a few more days."

Dembe glanced at Reddington again before focusing on the road ahead. He'd found out the truth about Elizabeth years ago, and the moment Reddington chose to become close to her again, he'd almost begged for her to be told. It wasn't right, and it wasn't fair to keep it from her. He was glad the truth was finally coming out, she wouldn't take to being kept in the dark forever. Reddington sighed again behind him.

"Am I taking us back to the airport?" Dembe already knew the answer, and was heading in that direction regardless.

"Yes, there's no reason to delay longer. Pass me the phone, Dembe." Dembe did was as he was asked, spying the almost defeated look on Reddingtons face. He couldn't feel sorry for him though... he'd bought it on himself. "It's time to call Elizabeth."


	13. Chapter 13

After they'd both cleaned themselves up in the locker room, Ressler had gone back to their office while Liz had a few minutes to herself. She sat on the bench between the rows of lockers, head in her hands. Her whole life was in turmoil. Everything she had thought, everything she had known was turning out to be a lie. Her loving husband wasn't that, but rather a rogue agent sent to spy on her for means of tracking a criminal. Said criminal wasn't just in her life because he knew her adoptive father, but rather because he was her _biological_ father. Reddington had lied to her. Straight up lied and denied being her father when she'd asked him all those months ago. Liz wasn't even surprised, thinking about it now, that he'd lied. It was in his nature, all Raymond Reddington seemed to do was lie, bend the truth and scheme for his own benefit. It didn't make the truth any easier to process and now it was all too much. Far too much for Liz to cope with any more. She didn't know how much more she could take before she broke... and if she got to that point, well, she didn't know if she would ever be able to come back from it.

Liz wiped underneath her eyes and checked her reflection in the long mirror at the end of the room. It didn't take a genius to work out that she'd been crying again. Ressler would know instantly, but she doubted he'd say anything. She left the locker room and headed back to their office, avoiding everyone’s gaze, not that she'd had to worry, they were all focusing on the tasks at hand. She slipped in the office and shut the door quickly behind her, going straight to her desk and sitting down. Ressler was watching her and she tried to give him a smile, but found she couldn't quite manage it. He nodded at her but didn't say anything, sensing she just needed the quiet. No one came to disturb them as they sat in near silence for the next hour, both working separately on the case, though Liz's input would stay unofficial due to her personal connection. 

While continuing to jot down any and everything Liz could remember about 'Tom' from very first time she met him, she couldn't help but let her mind once again drift over everything she'd learned in the last couple of days. How could so much have been kept from her without her knowing? How could all this happen right under her nose and her have no idea? Liz closed her eyes, willing the tears not to spill again only for them to fly open and the ringing of her phone.

Laying on the desk, the annoying, generic tune that played to announce a call with the added vibration resonating heavily against the wood. Liz could only stare as the words 'private number' was displayed on the screen, yet she found she couldn't move to pick it up. She looked up at Ressler, her eyes wide.

“It's him.”

Ressler jumped from his seat, rushing to stand next to her. “Answer it.”

“I can't,” Liz whispered, pushing away from the desk and moving as far away from the phone as she physically could in the small office. She knew she should answers it, that she needed to if she ever wanted answers. “I don't want to.”

“Liz-” Ressler said as the phone rang off. He wrapped an arm round her shoulders and pulled her close to him.

Rationally, Liz knew she couldn't avoid Reddington forever. There were many different ways the man could get to her if he really wanted to, and many more that Liz could never imagine. Yet still, standing there in the office and knowing what she did, and no matter how much she craved the answers only Reddington could give, Liz felt that she couldn't face picking up the damn phone. Liz sighed and twisted out of Resslers hold, running a hand through her hair while she moved away from him.

“If he calls back, which he will, then I'll answer it,” Liz, her voice quiet as she closed her eyes again. “I just don't think I'm ready to face this, Don.”

“You are.” Ressler moved to her side once more, lacing his fingers with hers and squeezing her hand. “You've waited years to find out the truth, even more reason to want to after the last year and now you can, Liz.”

“But-”

Liz was cut off the sound of Resslers phone ringing in his pocket. He kept tight hold of her hand and he retrieved it before shaking his head, laughing humourlessly.

“Should of known. Ressler.” He paused, looking at Liz. “She's standing right next to me. “It's for you, obviously.”

He held out the phone to her but she shook her head. He was about to object when she stopped him. “Put it on speaker.”

Ressler nodded, pressing this thumb against the screen and holding it out between them.

“ _Lizzie?_ ” came Reddingtons voice through the speaker. Liz froze against Resslers side, and he squeezed her hand again in encouragement. “ _Elizabeth, I know you know so stop with the silent treatment.._ ”

Son of a bitch, Liz thought. She sucked in a breath, wanting to end the call there and then but knew deep down that it probably wasn't the best thing to do at that precise moment. Instead, she spoke through gritted teeth. “And what is it exactly that you think I know?”

“ _This is childish. Elizabeth-_ ”

“I just want to hear you say it,” Liz whispered. “For once, can you just tell me something straight instead of playing games with me.”

“ _Not over the phone._ ” Liz stared disbelievingly at the phone, Ressler shaking his head to. “ _I'll be back in DC tomorrow afternoon. Dembe will send you an address of a safe place to meet -_ ”

“No.”

Liz turned at sharp tone in Resslers voice. Liz could tell her partner wasn't happy with Reddingtons plan, and if she was perfectly honest, neither was Liz.

“ _Excuse me?_ ”

“I said no.”

“ _This is hardly any of you business, Donald._ ”

Liz watched on as Ressler bristled at Reddingtons words. Even on a good day, Liz knew Ressler hated Reddington running things, running them as though they were on his pay roll, not the governments. Liz saw Resslers grip tighten on his phone and she had to place a hand gently on his wrist to allow her to prise it from him, her now holding in between them.

“She's my friend, Reddington, my partner. She came to me and that makes it my business, whether you like it or not.”

A feeling of warmth spread through Liz at hearing Ressler speak. He looked up at her, giving her a tight smile.

“ _That makes absolutely no difference. Don't fool yourself, Donald._ ” The two agents groaned in unison. “ _Lizzie, take the phone off speaker._ ”

“No,” Liz said, shocking not only herself but both men as well. “He's right. From this point forth – we're doing things my way.” Her voice got that little bit stronger with each word she spoke, Ressler grinning at her. “I will agree to not having this conversation over the phone, I'll grant you that, but that's as far as I'm willing to go around running after you from now on. You meet me, at a place of my choosing, not the other way around. I'm done playing your games, Reddington. Do you understand?”

“ _Where do you suppose me meet then, Elizabeth?_ ” Reddington said, his tone clear that he thought he was entertaining a child. Liz could picture the disapproving look on his face, the slight shake of head as he looked away from her. “ _A restaurant or park is too public and I am certainly_ not _airing my private affairs in a run down motel room._ ”

Liz was silent and the smugness of Reddington catching her without a plan resonated through the phone.

“My apartment.”

Liz spun round to look at Ressler, instantly catching his eye. “Really?” she mouthed at him. He nodded. There was nothing in his gaze to indicate that he regretted his offer. She was grateful for it, for many reasons including the fact that she had no other currant options.

“ _And why there, Donald?_ ”

They both seemed to have forgotten the criminal they were currently in conversation with, both having been to focused on the other. Ressler rolled his eyes, directing his next words to his phone still in Liz's outstretched hand.

“You know full well she'd been staying with me, there's no point even trying to deny it. It makes sense to do this at mine.”

“ _Is that the only reason?_ ”

Reddingtons tone was accusing and Liz looked questioningly at Ressler, only to find him glaring at the phone again, his eyes having darkened considerably.

“What other one is there?” he gritted out.

“ _You tell me, Donald._ ”

“It's either there or here at the Blacksite with you in the box,” Liz warned, finally taking charge of the conversation and steering it away from what could quickly become a full blown argument between Ressler and Reddington. She wanted the criminal to understand that these were now his only options, that she wasn't backing down to him any longer. “Take it or leave it.”

There was a brief pause before Reddington spoke again, his tone clearly displaying his displeasure at things not going to the he so obviously intended. “ _Agent Resslers apartment it is, then. Eight tomorrow evening – we'll bring dinner._ ”

And with that, the call was ended. Silence descended in the office with the click of the phone shutting off. Liz held the phone limply in her hand for a few seconds before handing it back to her partner. Ressler pocketed it, shaking his head.

“That was...”

“Yeah,” she agreed to his unfinished statement.

Liz went back to her desk, collapsing in to her chair with her head in her hands. That single phone conversation had managed to drain any remaining energy she had. Things would never be simple and easy where Reddington was concerned. It was always going to be a battle of wills with him, no matter what the subject, no matter whether it was his business or not. Her knowing the truth wouldn't change a thing. Nothing would ever change. Liz kept her head in her hands, palms pressed against her eyes.

“You okay?”

Ressler stood beside her, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder.

“No,” Liz said, shaking her head. “I need a drink.”

His hand was gone from her shoulder. She heard him shuffling through his desk before the sound of glasses clinking as they were placed down in front of her. She moved her hands from her eyes to watch as he filled one of the glasses halfway, pouring only a fraction of that in the second. He held the first glass out to her.

“Here.” Liz took the glass and downed the entire thing before picking up the bottle and pouring herself another generous amount. “Take it easy, Liz.”

“I'll buy you another bottle.”

“That's not what I mean,” Ressler said, moving the bottle out of her reach as he sat himself on the edge of her desk.

“I know.” Liz sighed, downing the remainder of her glass and wincing as the sharp liquid hit the back of her throat. “But it's not as if I'm driving myself home tonight, is it?”

“No,” said Ressler, standing and taking the bottle back to his desk, placing it back in it's spot in the draw, before sitting himself in his chair. “But you're still on the clock and you'll have to walk out there in front of everyone. That's not something you want to do pissed out your skull. “

Liz groaned, knowing he was right. “He makes my life, makes everything, difficult.”

“He makes everyone’s life difficult; it;s his greatest skill.”

“I just don't understand him.”

“No one does,” Ressler said, throwing his hands in the air. “I doubt even Dembe understands why he does half the shit he does. Look, let's just focus on Tom for now and deal with Reddington later, okay?”

Liz thought about it, and the more she did, the more she realised that the Blacksite wasn't the place she should be. She needed, wanted, to be alone for a while, even if it was only until Ressler got back that evening. It had been less than two hours since Ressler had told her Reddington was her biological father, and as much as she was trying to convince herself that she could deal with it, she hadn't yet fully been able to process it. Surrounded by everything like was, sitting in the office, Liz knew she wouldn't be able to focus solely on herself.

“Actually,” she said slowly, standing and gathering her things and taking her jacket from the back of her chair. “I think I’m gonna head out. My leave starts today anyway.”

Ressler looked up at her, shocked that she had decided to leave. He leapt up and went to stand by her side. “Liz -”

“I just need time, okay?” Liz said, placing both hands on Resslers shoulders, trying and failing to give him a smile. Ressler nodded and she released him, stepping back and pulling her keys from the top drawer of her desk, holding them up to him. On the single link keeping the bunch together, right next to her own house key, rested the key to his apartment, the one Ressler had given to her that morning before they left. “I have your spare key, I can let myself in.”

“What are you gonna do?” Ressler asked, his concern for her clear in his voice.

“I don't know,” she said quietly.

Ressler nodded to her, moving to the side slightly to allow her to pass. As she moved towards the door, Ressler reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her back slightly. They stared at each other for a moment, Liz's eyes questioning, Resslers warning.

“Be careful.”

“I will,” Liz said, nodding. She allowed Ressler to tug her in to a hug. She rested her chin on his shoulder, whispering in his ear. “Thank you, Don.”

* * *

From his place in the drivers seat, Dembe watched on as Reddington attempted to arrange a meeting with Elizabeth. He could sense Reddington becoming steadily agitated, even more so once Agent Ressler had become actively involved in the conversation. Dembe was glad Elizabeth had someone to fight in her corner. She needed it.

Dembe heard the back passenger window being opened, and glanced at Reddington through the wing mirror in time to see the man break the phone he'd been using in half and toss each piece out the window in turn. Dembe knew Reddington was not at all pleased with not having the controlling hand this time. Dembe also knew Reddington was not at all happy with Agent Ressler's apartment being used, rather than a safe house of his choosing.

Reddington was seething. He hated not being in control, especially if it was something she should have control of. While he had hoped Lizzies true parentage would remain a secret, Reddington would have preferred to be the one to have to tell her should the time have come. He was furious at the fact Agent Ressler had been the one to figure it out. Furious at both the Agent and at himself. He'd left too many tracks, too many loose ends, and now Lizzie knew the truth. Now Lizzie knew, he had needed to get her to understand, to give him time to explain. He would have no choice now but to tell her everything, he knew she'd no longer accept anything less than that. Reddington watched out the window as they travelled through London to his waiting jet, all the while scrutinising the closeness between Lizzie and Agent Ressler. The beginning had been troubled, but now they trusted each other wholeheartedly, it had been clear to everyone in recent weeks. The closeness that had been developing between them was no cause for concern but it did make Reddington think about the time they spent together in closed quarters. On one hand, Reddington was glad Elizabeth had someone she could go to, but on the other, it unnerved him that that person should be the very one that had hunted him for five out of the last six years, It unnerved him either more that this man now knew his deepest secret.

“You cannot expect Elizabeth not to confide in Agent Ressler, Raymond. She trusts him.”

Reddington snapped his head up, narrowing his eyes at the back of Dembe’s head. He almost couldn't believe Dembe was against him on this, yet he also knew the man knew everything, and no doubt had his own opinions on the matter. “I know she does,” Reddington said, still glaring at Dembe’s head, knowing the man could see him through the mirror. “But that doesn't mean I want him involved in this. It's between myself and Lizzie - no one else.”

“But it's okay for me to know, for Mr Kaplan?” They were stopped at a set of traffic lights not far from their destination. Dembe took the opportunity to turn in his seat, enough to be able to look Reddington straight in the eye. “This is out of you control now, Raymond. You will lose her for good if you continue to treat her the way you do.”

“I'm aware,” Reddington spat out.

The conversation seemed to end as Dembe turned his attention back to the road. They finished the rest of the journey in silence, Reddington reflecting on how true Dembe’s statement had been. Reddington knew Lizzie would not take much more from him, that she would turn her back on him completely if he continued on the path he was taking. Though he did not want that to happen, he had spent so many years hiding the truth, ensuring that she wouldn't find out by accident, that he now wasn't sure he had the ability to just open up to her.

Dembe rolled the car to a stop a few feet from the jet. Reddington let himself out and instantly boarded, taking his preferred seat by the window. He watched through as Dembe unloaded their bags from the trunk of the car, passing them off to those ready to load them and boarded the jet himself. Dembe took the seat opposite him, placing a hand on Reddingtons knee.

“When the time comes, and you are not there, he will take care of her. He will be her safe haven.” Reddington sucked in a breath, refusing to look at Dembe as the man spoke words so true Reddington hated to believe them. “You need to stop dictating who she has in her life. Look how that's turned out so far.”

Reddington knew Dembe was right, he did, but he would not admit that to Dembe. Reddington knew Agent Ressler would protect Lizzie with his life, knew that he would do so without even being asked. He was not Reddingtons first choice, nor was he a particularly bad choice, but there was a history he shared with the man. Reddington shook his head.

“I'd like to be alone now, Dembe.”

* * *

Liz had not long left the office when Ressler emerged, not able to stay cooped up in the room alone any longer. No one approached him, whether it be because they had nothing knew for him or they simply didn't think it wise. He was worried about his partner, how she was taking finding out she's the daughter of the notorious Raymond Reddington. It was a lot for him to take in, let alone her. Ressler himself had mixed feelings about the whole thing, not about Liz herself, but the situation. Any other person, he would have outed them to Cooper the moment he'd got the call about the results – but not Liz. Liz was different. Ressler couldn't imagine dropping her in it without her knowing or okay... it just didn't feel right.

Ressler walked up to Arams desk, standing off to the side as he watched both Aram and Meera crowd round the computer, muttering to each other. He stood and waited for them to acknowledge him but neither did, Ressler shook his head and raised his voice enough to disturb them.

“Have you managed to locate Lopez?”

Ressler smiled inwardly at the way Aram jumped and sprung away from Meera, who Ressler caught shaking her head at the mans reaction.

“Uh, uh,” Aram stuttered, rearranging himself in his chair. “Which one?”

“Either,” said Ressler, leaning with both hands on Arams desk. “We need a lead – any lead.”

Aram nodded and started furiously typing once again, combing through any and every single thing he could. He brought up multiple screens of information, screens running facial recognition. Ressler could only hope it yielded something.

“We saw Liz leave,” Meera said, coming up to stand beside him. Ressler turned his attention briefly away from the screens to glance at her, wondering where she was going to go with her line of questioning this time. “She okay?”

“You really expect her to be?” Meera shrugged, shaking her head and Ressler sighed. “She decided to start her leave early.” He wasn't going to give too much away, not without Liz's say so.

Meera rounded on him, clearly shocked. “And you just let her go?”

Ressler rolled his eyes but kept his gaze away from the CIA agent. “She's a grown woman, Malik. I can't make her stay, especially not when Coopers already given her the green light.”

“But we might need to question her again.”

“Then I'll call her back in.”

Ressler could feel Meera glaring at the side of his head but he ignored her in favour of continuing to stare at the screens hanging above them. His eyes jumped from screen to screen, afraid of the possibility of missing something if his attention strayed for too long. He should have been out here doing this earlier but, given the circumstances, Liz had needed his company more. He wondered briefly how Liz would go about getting back to his apartment, given that he had driven them in that morning. His focus off the screen for a minute meant that Ressler missed the moving images freeze.

“Agent Ressler?”

“Yeah?” Ressler said, his head snapping up. He moved to stand behind Aram, joining the tech in staring down at his own computer screen.

“Maria Lopez is currently on standby for a flight to Spain under the name 'Pamela Rodrigues'.”

“Where?” Ressler said as his heart leapt. They finally had something.

Aram types again, bringing up a new page. “Reagan National.”

“Call the airport and have her delayed further until we get there,” Ressler called over his shoulder as he jogged to his office to grab his things. Standing at his desk, he pulled out his phone, only to out it away again less than ten seconds later. On one hand he thought he should tell Liz, keep her up to date every step of the way. On the other, he thought telling her of a lead that could still possibly fail to pan out wouldn't be the best thing given her current state of mind. He decided not to tell her, at least not until he knew where this was going to end up. Ressler stuffed his keys in his pocket before jogging back out his office. Aram was on the phone, informing someone at the airport of who he was. Ressler pointed at him as he approached the desk. “Make sure they know not to let her leave. With me.”

Meera followed him into the elevator, staying silent as they made their way to his bureau issued car. Getting in their respective sides, Meera waited until he'd started the engine and was in the process of pulling out of the parking space before speaking.

“Are you gonna call Liz?”

Ressler feigned thinking about it, having already made up his mind before they left. He shook his head. “She'll only get her hopes up – I'll tell her later.”

“Meeting her for dinner again?”

Ressler shook his head, “She's staying at my place, at least until this mess is sorted.”

Ressler didn't have to look the woman was giving him. It was the same look she'd been throwing him every time she'd caught him without Liz.

“Bet that's cosy.”

Ressler rolled his eyes. He didn't need this now. “Can you not?”

“So defensive,” Meera laughed.

“She's my friend, my partner,” Ressler said, flicking the sirens on in hope of moving through the almost stationary traffic faster. “And she's going through a pretty tough fucking time at the moment. I'm just trying to help her in any way I can.￡

“Alright, alright,” Meera said, throwing her hands in the air in mock surrender, laughing again as Ressler glared at her while keeping one eye on the road. “That's the last comment you'll be getting from me.”

Ressler nodded at her. They drove for a few minutes in silence, weaving in and out of traffic. Ressler considered what Meera had said. Now that he thought about it, it _was_ sort of cosy having Liz stay with him. It was nice having someone there after work to share food and a beer with. The two of them didn't only stick to talking about work either, they had actually been taking the time to learn more about one another. It had only been a couple of days, but Ressler wasn't sure he wanted her to leave. The sound of Meeras phone jolted him from his thoughts.

“Malik.” Ressler caught her eyeing him. She pulled the phone away from her ear and tapped the screen, holding it out between them. “You're on.”

“ _I've just done another scan of the airport_ ,” Arams voice came filtering through the speaker. Something about his tone gave Ressler a feeling of dread that settled in the pit of him stomach. He wasn't going to like what he was about to hear. “ _Tom Keen is there._ ”

Meera and Ressler shared a look as she thanked Aram and hung up. Meera braced herself against her seat as Ressler hit the accelerator, banging his fist against the steering wheel.

“Shit.”


	14. Chapter 14

Liz wouldn’t allow herself to breathe a sigh of relief until she was sitting on a bench in a park twelve blocks from the Post Office. She couldn’t allow herself to relax at all though, far from it, no matter how much she wanted to. She was constantly on high alert, always looking over her shoulder, forever scrutinising every single person who passed her by. She realised now that she’d been doing this ever since Reddington had come into her life. Since that first day, the day Ressler and a team of Agents had confronted her on her doorstep, she’d had to keep one eye open at all times. It was exhausting. She couldn’t let her guard down though, not for a second, not now, not with Tom – _Justin_ – out there. For all she knew, and it wasn’t entirely implausible, he could be watching her right now, hiding behind a bush or perched up a tree. It might not be ‘Tom’ at all, but someone watching with him, _for_ him or even for someone else. Despite knowing this, Liz couldn’t find it in her to move somewhere less public, somewhere with cover, somewhere that wouldn’t be easy for her to be targeted, a sitting duck. She sat there on the wooden bench, slumped forward with her elbows on her knees, head in her hands, all manner of thoughts running through her mind.

Why, _how_ , could her seemingly normal life turn into anything but? It was an utter clusterfuck. Her marriage – _fake marriage_ – had turned out to be nothing but a sham, a string of lies and deceit. A textbook relationship: they met, they dated, they fell in love… well, at least she had. They rarely argued, rarely fought… at least they hadn’t done until she started working at the Post Office. She always assumed it was because of her and her inability to disclose the classified aspects of her job but the realisation hitting her hard now as she sat there, was that it wasn’t down to that at all. It wasn’t Liz and her secrets creating the cracks in their marriage. No. it had been Tom and _his_. The cracks started showing once she was in a position where she could potentially find everything out. All these months feeling like a failure of a wife when it wasn’t down to her at all.

Her parentage? Again a portion of her life that was all lies. She hadn’t exactly been outright lied to her entire life about her biological parents, more like lied to indirectly. Truth be told, she’d never truly had that conversation with Sam. Never really felt like she’d had to. She’d always had the understanding, always accepted that her biological parents couldn’t care for her, but Sam could. Sam had loved her, been the one to read her stories and kiss her hair at night. She hadn’t needed anything more than that. Sam had never offered any more of an insight into her life before he’d taken her in, and she’d always assumed that he never knew anything more than what he _had_ told her. Liz guessed that wasn’t the truth. Sam had to have known the truth, how couldn’t he of? She’d said as much to Ressler a few days previously and the more she thought about it now. The more she knew it to be true. She felt sick. It was too much.

Liz gasped for air. She hadn’t realised she was crying until it was too hard to breathe. She choked back a sob, looking round her to see if anyone had noticed her breaking down. She was in luck – there was no one around her. She blinked back fresh tears, wiping the tracks away from her cheeks. How much shit, how much uncertainty can one person go through before they just can’t do it anymore? With Reddington around… this shit would never be over. She needed… she needed _out_. Maybe not forever, but she needed a break. She needed to get away from everything, to cut tied for a while. It would be hard but… she was only so strong, only capable of dealing with so much before she couldn’t deal with anything anymore. She’d felt like she was drowning once before, when she was seventeen and this time she knew she wouldn’t be able to drag herself back to the surface again.

Liz stood suddenly, turning on her heel and walking briskly towards the park gates. She walked in the opposite direction to the Post Office, glancing over her shoulder every now and then. She needed to get as far away from there as she could. She walked for close to twenty minutes, randomly changing direction every other street. Some might call it paranoia, but given everything the last few months? Warranted. She pulled her phone from her pocket, scrolling down to the contact that had helped her once before. One of Reddingtons she may be, but she trusted her. Liz didn’t know why but something about the woman stood out, and if there was anyone that could help her disappear for a while it was her.

Liz clicked to call and held the phone to her ear, waiting for it to connect. It barely rang twice before the woman’s voice came floating through. Liz glanced once more over her shoulder.

“Hey,” she said lowly, murmuring into the speaker. “I need to see you.”

* * *

Ressler and Meera made it to the airport in record time, Ressler having broken every traffic law being a Special Agent for the FBI would allow. He’s barely thrown the car into park before they were both jumping out the SUV and sprinting into the airport, flashing their badges to security. Aram had had the foresight to call ahead and brief officials on what was going on, so the two weren’t delayed any more than they needed to be. They were pointed in the right direction and set off, a team of Agents following behind them. As they ran through the airport, Ressler panted through his comms to Aram.

“Please tell me you still have eyes on them.”

It took barely any time for Aram to get back to him. “ _I do_.” Ressler heard the faint clicking of keys and Aram’s hurried mutterings. “ _Terminal three, gate twelve departure lounge. They’re seated on the fifth row of chairs from the window._ ”

Ressler grunted in response, widening his stride, and picking up his pace, ignoring the burning sensation starting in his chest. Meera was hot on his heels, only a few paces behind. They neared the right gate, both flashing their badges as they sprinted past and unholstering their weapons. Airport police were already working on removing people from the immediate area, slower than Ressler would like but knowing that Aram would have briefed them enough on the situation to know they were working in a way to not spook their targets and still keep everyone safe. They slowed and stopped in a place where they were hidden but still had eyes on the two people they were there for. As soon as Ressler caught sight of Tom Keen, he saw red. He wanted nothing more than to take the man down for everything he’d put Liz through, but they needed him alive… preferably… but Ressler knew he wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in him if he had to.

Meera stepped closer to him, muttering in his ear. “Who do we make our priority, him or her?”

Until this moment, Ressler hadn’t even considered himself going for anyone but _him_. He didn’t show Meera the curtesy of looking at her when he growled out, “He’s _mine_.”

“Okay then,” Meera said with an edge to her voice.

They fell into silence, standing behind the pillar they’d used to take cover. Ressler assessed their situation, trying to decided when would be the perfect time to make their presence known. Do they stand there doing nothing and wait until the two of them are ready to part ways, or do they jump on them now and catch them completely unawares? Whichever way they did it posed risks. Ressler highly doubted they had anything to worry about in regards to Maria Lopez; everything they had about her on paper told them she was harmless, but it never hurt to head with caution. It was Tom Keen they had to worry about, he was the one that would cause most of the problems. He was violent, dangerous, and unpredictable, three things you never wanted to attack without a plan.

So not to startle either of them into doing something stupid, Ressler decided to move in once the two were done with their conversation – there were still too many civilians littering the area for his liking. Ambushing them now could lead the two to scatter and get lost amongst the crowd, something they really did not want. If push came to shove, Ressler had to ask himself if he was willing to leave Lopez with the possibility of escaping if it meant detaining the bastard that was Tom Keen. He was only partially conflicted over the answer. He muttered his plan of action to Meera, garnering her agreement before doing the same to the team through comms. Ressler had no idea what happened, but all of a sudden Tom Keen was standing and staring directly at him, a sneer on his face. Exactly three seconds passed before he turned and bolted.

“Shit.” Ressler instantly made after him, barking over his shoulder, “DETAIN HER!”

Ressler followed hot on Keen’s heels as he simultaneously weaved in and out of the crowd still trailing through the terminal and blending in. Ressler blinked and almost missed Keen disappearing through a door marked for personnel, following after running passed a group of tourists who had stopped to stare at him. Ressler hoped there was a dead end beyond the door, because he was fast growing tired of this game of cat and mouse. Behind the door led him to an abandoned hall and he could hear the echoing of Keens shoes against the tile until Ressler couldn’t hear it anymore. He scoured the immediate area, keeping the door he’d entered through in sight but found there was no other was out unless Keen backtracked on himself. Ressler had his weapon drawn and trained in front of him. He allowed himself a half smile.

“Make this easier on yourself, _Warren._ ”

“So you’ve figured out my name?”

Tom Keen shifted into view, standing tall but defensive with a sneer on his face once more. He was unarmed, so easy for Ressler to just put a bullet in him and claim it was in defence… but that’s not the way he worked. If they didn’t need him for answers, Ressler was sure he’d end up shooting him regardless – the man in front of him was not the type to go down without a fight. He was shifting, as though to get them to circle each other with the hopes of getting to the door. Ressler wasn’t about to let that happen. He kept his gun trained on the man in front of him, glaring.

“Liz always did say you were good at your job,” Keen sneered. Ressler tried to ignore the little fluttering of his heart at the words of his partners praise, needing to keep his full focus on the matter at hand. Keen shifted, feigning stepping forward in hopes of catching him off guard. Ressler wasn’t distracted enough for that though. Keen bared his teeth, snarling. “Or was it little Miss CIA out there that did it for you?”

“I can’t wait to take you in.” Ressler trained his gun higher, staring straight at the man in front of him. He thought of Liz and what she’d been dealing with since meeting her – and before. He thought about what she was dealing with now, what she’d learnt about her life and the part her ‘husband’ and to play in it and his heart clenched at the pain she felt. “I’m gonna make your life a living hell for what you’ve put her through.”

“Is that what you promised my wife when she turned up on your doorstep?” Tom sneered, baring his teeth, taunting. “Enjoying my leftovers?”

Ressler saw red, and intense anger seeping through his blood. “She’s not your wife,” he spat through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing to slits. “You son of a bitch.”

“And you didn’t deny it.”

“You’re a liar and a fraud; your marriage is nothing but fake.”

That last little jab seemed to spur the man into action. Keen moved faster than he had been before, and Ressler had no time to register him closing the distance between them or the fist flying at his face. His head snapped to the side at the force of the punch, throwing him off balance. Keen managed to get a few sharp jabs at his ribs as he was going down. He landed hard on his side, losing the grip on his gun and his vision blurring. He tried blinking the feeling away, but it only seemed to make it worse. He felt rather than saw Keen coming towards him, crouching down beside him. “Give Liz my best.”

Something came down on the back of his head and everything went dark.

* * *

He was… floating.

He felt as though he was floating on water, but his body felt heavy at the same time – it was confusing. Ressler could hear muffled sounds, possibly someone shouting and was that someone tapping his hand?

“ _Ressler_?”

He groaned, his skull feeling like it was being split in two by the intense _pounding_ of drums. Awareness came back to him in waves; a woman periodically calling his name, the warm sensation of something coating the back of his neck, tickling the skin, the cold of the concrete beneath him, pressing against his cheek.

“Ressler?”

Ressler blinked slowly, Meera’s face coming into focus above him. He felt the pressure of her hand on his arm, grounding him and helping his consciousness fight to the surface. It took a good minute or two for Ressler to become completely aware of his surroundings. He groaned as he moved, pulling himself up until he was sitting. Meera tried to keep him down but he shrugged her off, starting to feel the damage to his pride along with his physical injuries. He raised his hand to the back of his head, feeling the tender skin and the cut along his hairline, his fingers coming away streaked with red. It took him a moment to remember what happened, realising too slowly that Meera had found him alone.

“Where -.”

“He’s gone,” she said with a bite to her voice. She refused to allow him to shrug her off again as she helped him to his feet. “He disappeared before I found you.”

“Damn it,” Ressler groaned, not just because of the headache fast growing, or the uncomfortable sensation of having bruised ribs. “Where’s Lopez.”

“She’s being taken back to the Post Office,” Meera said, still holding on to Resslers arm to stop him from swaying where he stood. She gave him a pointed look, though he chose to ignore her. “She didn’t even put up a fight; looked almost relieved.”

Ressler nodded along with her, trying to focus on her voice rather than the stiffness of his body or the drying blood sticking to his skin and the back of his shirt collar. From what he could tell, it was only a small wound, and it had already ceased bleeding. He just needed to get cleaned up, change his shirt and he’d be good to go. He’d worry about everything else later, there were more pressing things at hand now. He made towards the exit but Meera pulled him back.

“She can wait, let’s go get you looked at.”

“No,” Ressler said, his tone leaving no room for discussion or negotiation. They’d already wasted too much time, especially with him being knocked on his ass (his pride would forever be wounded at that). Keen was once again in the wind, and Ressler felt responsible, though he knew no one (Liz mostly, when he told her) would hold him accountable. He was _so_ close and a very small part of him regretted not just pulling the trigger whilst he had the chance. Who knew now how long it would take to track him down again, considering he’d only been found while they were tracking Lopez. The best thing they could do now was leave a team behind to canvas the airport and hope someone had seen which way Keen had gone, and head back to the Blacksite themselves to deal with Lopez. The sooner they did, the sooner they could figure out what the fuck was going on and he could go home and throw back a couple of Advil and shower – plus he wanted to check in on Liz and make sure she was doing okay. He levelled Meera with a look. “Lopez first, then I’m going home.”

“Liz?” Meera questioned with a raised eyebrow and a small smirk playing on her lips. He expected no less from her. He’d been on the receiving end of her sly comments about Liz for weeks, and they’d only intensified the last couple of days. No matter how many times he told the woman that the feelings he had for his partner were everything but romantic, his denial did nothing to stop her, only spur her on. The fact that he had no doubt she knew Liz had been staying with him did not help matters. He narrowed his eyes at her, giving nothing away. He watched as her eyes softened, and she opened her mouth to respond but he cut her off.

“Don’t,” he said sharply, hoping his tone would out an end to it. By the look on her face and the purse on her lips he knew it had worked. He felt a little guilty for snapping at her, knowing that she was only trying to help. He sighed and school his head. “I promised to keep her updated, and I fully intend on doing that.”

“Then call her on the way to the hospital.”

“Fat lip and a headache, that’s all,” Ressler said, scowling at her. “We’re leaving.”

“Split lip, a possible concussion and a head wound that requires stitches,” Meera said, listing off each injury on her fingers.

“I’ve had a concussion before,” he pointed out. He wasn’t lying; he’d had his fair share of concussions, and though his head hurt like a bitch, he didn’t think he had one now. “I’m good.”

“Tell me, how many fingers am I holding up?” He scowled at her again, and she narrowed her eyes at him in response. “Ressler…”

“Don’t. Let’s go.”

“Fine,” Meera said, defeated. She reached towards him, snaking her hand into the pocket of his jacket to retrieve the cars to their car and holding them up to him. “But I’m driving.”

Ressler said nothing as he nodded and led them back through the airport to where he’d haphazardly parked the car earlier. Neither of them spoke when they got in the car, not until Meera switched on the engine and asked him again if he was sure he didn’t want to see a medic first.

“No, I fucking well don’t and if you’re not gonna move this damn car you get the hell out and I’ll drive myself.”

After an age spent battling through DC traffic, Ressler and Meera stepped off the elevator into the Blacksite. Most of their drive was spent in silence after Ressler had snapped at her and her repeated comments on his refusal to seek out a medic. He was fine, granted he had a blossoming headache, but he honestly couldn’t tell whether that was from being knocked out or her constant nagging. She meant well, he knew she did, but his ego was bruised along with his ribs and he was embarrassed from being knocked on his ass. His lip throbbed but it had stopped bleeding… not before a few droplets had gotten on his shirt _and_ he knew he no longer had a spare in his locker at the moment, having changed into it after he’d held Liz whilst she cried.

Liz.

How was he going to tell her Tom had gotten away after he’d been so close to catching him? He knew she wouldn’t blame him for the man slipping away, but it didn’t stop him feeling like he’d failed. He stifled a groan as his ribs protested to him moving, ignoring the side-eye he was getting from Meera and all but stomped over the Aram’s desk.

“Where’s Lopez?” he demanded, startling his fellow agent.

“They – they took her into interrogation three.” Ressler rolled his eyes at the look Aram was giving him. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Ressler muttered, holding his hand out for the casefile he’d called ahead and asked Aram to prepare.

“He ran into Keen’s fist.”

Ressler, who had started to thumb through the file, slammed it shut and glared at Meera. She shrugged at him and began filling Aram in on what had happened at the airport. His headache was getting worse and he just wanted to be done with the day and go home. He stood there, fast losing patience with Meera and her second by second recap of the previous hour. He suspected she was doing it to purposely piss him off, payback no doubt for him snapping at her in the car. He rolled his eyes, moving to head towards the interrogation rooms. He called over his shoulder as he walked.

“Are you coming or am I don’t this alone?”

He could feel her eye roll behind his back and heard her mutter bye to Aram before she hurried to fall into step beside him. “Yes, I’m coming.”

Together, they made their way to the interrogation room Maria Lopez was being held in. Ressler, still holding the file, thumbed through until he found the blown up image of Tom Keen and slammed it down on the table in front of the woman. She flinched violently.

“You recognise him?” When she didn’t answer, Ressler thrust the image at her, jabbing it with his finger. “Well?”

“You know I do,” Maria said quietly, watching Meera closely as she sat opposite her.

Ressler stepped away from the table at her admission, silently letting Meera take the lead. Normally he wouldn’t, considering he was the Senior Agent working the case and she was still technically on loan from the CIA and he hated relinquishing charge, but his head was pounding, and he needed a minute to wrap his head around the happenings of the day. He stalked to the corner of the small room, turning to lean against the wall. He watched Maria closely, looking for any indication that she was lying.

“By what name?” Meera asked, keeping her voice even and Ressler knew he wouldn’t be able to do the same.

Maria nodded as she spoke, as though she was psyching herself up. “Tom Keen,” she said uneasily, her eyes darting rapidly between the two of them. She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I – I don’t know his real name.”

Ressler stiffened, as did Meera and the air in the small room became tense. Maria kept her eyes downcast, refusing to look at either of them. Ressler caught Meera’s eye and gave her a small nod, letting her know she should continue.

“So you know his name’s fake?” Meera asked, continuing to keep her voice even as she leaned forward with her forearms on the table.

Maria’s gaze flicked up at them and Ressler could see the guilt behind her eyes. She dropped her gaze again to her cuffed hands in front of her and when she spoke, her voice came out in barely a whisper. “Yes.”

“When did you find out,” Ressler demanded, striding the three steps back to the table with purpose and jabbing at the image of Tom again. “Before or during your affair with him?”

“Maria’s head shot up and her eyes widened in shock. Ressler could already tell this was the first time she was hearing about her having an affair with the man, and he couldn’t help but wonder if that were because she didn’t think they would be found out or if they hadn’t been having one in the first place.

“We never had an affair?”

The fact that she’d posed the statement as a question indicated to Ressler that she was telling the truth. “No?” he asked, and she shook her head in response. He stood back from the table, ignoring the ache in his ribs form being hunched over. He fought to keep his voice neutral. “Then why did you meet secretly with him for over a year, sneaking around behind his wife’s back.”

Meera shot him a warning look, as if she were worried he’d go too far and overstep his boundaries and his personal feeling would come into play. He knew what he was doing, and he needed her to trust him to do his job without a conflict of interest, which he was perfectly capable of achieving.

Maria shook her head frantically, her eyes wide with panic. “I can’t.. I can’t tell you.”

Ressler opened his mouth to respond but was unable to Meera had slammed her hand down onto the table, the resounding ‘slap’ echoing throughout the room and making Maria jump. “You were passing information on Raymond Reddington back and forth between him and Uncle Ricardo wasn’t you?”

Maria looked frantically between the two of them again, tears streaming down her cheeks as she shook her head. “He’ll kill my son!” Maria all but screamed at them before breaking down into a sobbing mess with her head pressed against the table.

“Son?” Ressler and Meera questioned in unison, glancing at each other briefly before turning their attention back to the distraught woman curling into herself in front of them.

Ressler thumbed through the file they had on her, the one that an agent had thoughtfully left on the table for them before they’d arrived. He flipped to the page where all members of her family – that they knew of – were listed and showed it to Meera, who nodded to say the information they had was, as far as they knew, correct. Ressler skimmed through the information once more, just to double check, before he pulled the relevant page out and placed it on the table in front of her, tapping his knuckles against the metal top to gain her attention.

“There’s no record anywhere of you ever having a son,” he said sharply, narrowing his eyes at her.

It took a good two minutes for Maria to calm down enough to string a sentence together. She lifted her head and flicked her eyes between the blown up image of Tom Keen, and the piece of paper with her personal information printed for the world to see. “Fifteen months ago, I found out I was pregnant after a one night stand with an ex of mine,” she said, speaking lowly, but with a firm desperation for them to understand. “I hadn’t seen Ricardo in years, not since I was a little girl, but he got in contact with me because Tom was due to start working at the same school as I do. He knew I was pregnant – I don’t know how but he did. He threat-threatened to kill my baby before he was even born if I didn’t agree to pass along a package every month, sometimes it could be more than that.”

Ressler took a moment to really look at the still trembling woman. He was no profiler, and he usually left that to Liz, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t able to judge a person when needed. Maria Lopez was terrified, and her fear was genuine. Ressler had no idea why there was no records of her son, and he would come back to that line of questioning later, but right now he needed to get all the information on Tom as he could. He moved back to the corner.

“What was in the packages?”

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

Maria flinched at Resslers raised voice. He knew it hadn’t been necessary, but it did give him a genuine reaction from her. She began frantically shaking her head again, so much so he was surprised she wasn’t complaining of feeling dizzy.

“I swear I don’t know,” she pleaded, tears building in her eyes once more. “They were never bigger than a small padded envelope – the kind you could fit a thumb drive in.

Ressler thought it most likely _was_ a thumb drive being passed between the two, though what was actually on it was anyone’s guess. The only thing Ressler felt he knew for certain was that it had to do with Reddington. He was pulled away from his thoughts by Meera asking the question he should have.

“What changed?”

“What -,” Maria started but the words got caught in her throat. She flicked her gaze between the two of them again. “What do you mean?”

“There’s no record of the son you claim to have. There’s no record of you ever being pregnant – no record of there ever being a baby,” Meera said calmly, keeping her face as neutral as she could. “What happened?”

“We can help you,” Ressler said, moving to rest next to Meera, who remained seated. “But you have to be honest; we can’t help you unless you help us.”

Maria seemed to be considering his words. All was silent between the three of them for a few minutes, but Ressler knew they needed to give her time, regardless of how much he wanted to move the interrogation along. She finally seemed to come to a conclusion because she started to nod her head before taking a deep breath.

“About ten months ago, Tom missed an arranged meeting with me.” She paused to give herself a moment to get her facts straight, before continuing. “They said at work that he’d been in some sort of attack – a home invasion gone wrong? When Ricardo heard. He wasn’t happy, thought it was personal and he demanded I get the latest package to Tom no matter what. Tome was always with someone; his wife or a friend that came to take him to appointments while she was at work, but he was never alone. I managed to get it to him, but neither of them were happy. Ricardo decided to increase the amount of meetings; the stress attributed to my high blood pressure and I ended up being induced six weeks early.”

Ressler felt for the woman, he truly did he briefly thought back to the anguish he himself had felt only a few weeks ago after learning Audrey had been carrying his child when she died. If he could feel like that having one; not known beforehand and two; not being the one to be physically carrying the threatened child, then he could only _imagine_ what Maria had been feeling when the life of her unborn baby in jeopardy. It in no way excused what she had participated in, but he could start to understand _why_ she had. He couldn’t gage what Meera’s thoughts were, but he was feeling sympathetic towards Maria Lopez. Ressler sighed and forced himself to keep his voice even.

“What did Ricardo do to your son, Maria?”

She turned to face him with wide eyes. “Noth- nothing.”

Ressler frowned; she seemed to be telling the truth as far as he could tell. A quick glance at Meera told him she’d come to the same conclusion.

“But –,” Meera started, but she was cut off by Maria.

“Raymond Reddington.”

“ _Reddington?_ ”

Ressler and Meera were stunned into silence by the unexpected revelation. Ressler abandoned his post in the corner of the room to take a seat next to Meera. He ran a hand through his hair and stared at the woman.

“Explain.”

“He came to the hospital the day Carlos was born; turned up barely an hour after they’d finished doing all their checks. He was charming and sincere; turned up with flowers for me and a stuffed elephant for my son.” She spoke lowly, but with far more confidence than she had been previously. “He said he could protect us both from Ricardo, but that I had to continue doing what I had been until I was no longer any use to my uncle, the only change being I had to report to him first. Today was the last time I was supposed to meet Tom, then we’d be able to leave with out new identities and enough money to start a new life comfortably away from here.”

“Sounds like something he’d do,” Ressler muttered to Meera, getting a nod in response. He turned his attention back to Maria. “He was the one to alter your records?

Maria nodded. “He said he would have all knowledge of my son removed and my medical records amended so there would be nothing to say I’d ever been pregnant. As far as I know, Ricardo still believes he can get to my son but if he went looking for him, he wouldn’t be able to find a trace of him.”

Ressler nodded while Meera made notes in Maria’s file. “Where _is_ your son?”

“Officially, he lives next door; under a different name and with one of Reddingtons people looking after him during the day. When I get home from work, I go to my apartment and through a door that was created in the hall closet.” Maria twisted her hands in front of her, biting her lip and sniffing. “All my friends and family think I gave him up for adoption at birth.”

Ressler had whipped his phone out the moment she’d mentioned where her son had been living, dialling Aram’s number. “Aram, have agents dispatched to th3e apartment next to Maria Lopez’s, have them brought in – their sons hers.” Not giving Aram a chance to ask any questions, he ended the call and put his phone away again. “Was it another envelope you were supposed to hand over?”

Maria shook her head. “No, Tom was supposed to give me something, but he was late; he only showed up ten minutes before you did. Usually we stay together for around thirty minutes for the hand over and then we part ways.”

“Damn.”

“How do you communicate with Ricardo?” Meera asked, throwing her pen down and leaning forward, and resting her forearms on the table.

“I don’t directly,” Maria said, sniffing and swiping under her eyes with the back of her hands. She bit her lip and looked between Ressler and Meera. “The packages are always left with a note in my mailbox and I leave the one from Tom the same way exactly twenty-four hours later.”

Ressler shared a glance with Meera, knowing that if they could find any evidence or trace of either Tom or the other Lopez, it was the step in the right direction for the investigation. It would mean they had _something_. They were broken from their silent conversation by a hesitant Maria.

“What’s going to happen now?”

Ressler shook his head, pushing away from the table and standing up, the legs of the chair scraping loudly against the floor. “You deal with this; I need to speak to Aram.”

* * *

Liz walked up to the café Mr Kaplan had suggested they meet. They’d agreed to meet an hour after Liz had called, the older woman refraining from asking many questions over the phone, but seemingly knowing exactly what Liz wanted. It was almost unnerving, but she was one of Reddingtons, so Liz decided to ignore it, knowing that she would have to if she wanted the help the woman could give. The journey to the café would’ve taken no longer than ten minutes, fifteen with traffic, had she have gone by car but instead took her close to fifty-five minutes on foot. The walk though, had given Liz the opportunity to think a lot more on her current situation. She battled with herself over whether disappearing for a while would be the best, or right, thing to do. One minute she was convincing herself that it was, that she needed to, and the next she was trying to talk herself out of it. No matter how many times she rerun the pros and cons in her head, calculated the risks and benefits, she always came back to the same conclusion – she had to leave.

Liz turned into the right street, crossing the road, and checking the numbers on the front of the buildings, coming to s stop halfway down the street. There were no lights on and no sign outside. Liz peered through the darkened windows before stepping back and checking the name and address. Confirming with the message Mr Kaplan had sent her that she had indeed gotten the right place, Liz peered through the window again, but there was no sign of life behind the glass and upon trying her luck with the door, she found it to be locked. She stepped back, contemplating calling the woman once more when there was sudden movement in the shadows of the café before there was a ‘click’ and the door suddenly swung open, though the doorway itself remained empty. Liz didn’t draw her weapon, choosing to keep it holstered, but she did enter the building with caution, eyes darting in all directions and immediately scrutinising her surroundings for anything out of the ordinary. She moved slowly towards the back of the café, noticing the chairs upturned atop the tables and many of them carried layers upon layers of dust, as though they hadn’t been used in years. It was strange.

A squat little woman with heavily lidden eyes and dark brown, almost black, hair littered with grey appeared behind her and Liz quickly deducted that she had been the one to let her in. Liz quickly glanced over her shoulder and found the door had once again been closed, no doubt locked, but somehow that didn’t make her feel trapped. The squat woman side-stepped around her, gesturing her to follow. Liz gave a slight nod, but the woman had already turned away, leading her through an archway that led to the kitchen and to a door that she soon learned led to the basement. Liz peered down the stairs, noting the space below was illuminated by light. The woman nudged her forward, almost forcing her, pointing for her to go down the stairs. Liz descended with caution, glancing over her shoulder to the woman, who just nodded and backed away. Liz continued until she reached flat ground, eyes darting instantly around the space. She released a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding at the sight of Mr Kaplan seated at a properly dressed table set for two, complete with a frilly cloth, platter of mini sandwiches and a teapot with steam coming from the spout.

“Hey,” Liz said as Mr Kaplan gestured for her to sit and Liz did, removing her jacket and draping it over the back of the chair. “Thank you for meeting me.”

“It’s not a problem, Dearie,” Mr Kaplan said, reaching over and tapping Liz lightly on the hand before pouring them both a drink and placing a few of the sandwiches on a plate and sliding them over to her. Liz thanked her but made no move to eat or drink. Mr Kaplan stared at her with sharp eyes and pursed lips. “What’s Raymond done this time?”

Liz sighed and slumped back in her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. She had an inkling that the woman knew already exactly what was going on. “You already know.” She felt as though she had no fight left in her, not right now. Liz rolled her eyes when the woman said nothing. “I know you do, so please don’t insult my intelligence by pretending otherwise. I’m really not in the mood for it today.”

Mr Kaplan finally, after what felt like hour to Liz, sighed and leaned back, shaking her head. “Raymond has only ever done what he believes is best for you.”

Liz huffed, covering her face with her hands. “How is any of this what’s best for me?” Liz shook her head. “This isn’t what’s best for me.”

“No,” Mr Kaplan agreed. “It isn’t.”

Liz looked up quickly, her eyes narrowing slightly at the woman before hers admission. She hadn’t really expected her to be so open and against Reddington’s decision to keep her in the dark about events of her life. Honestly… Liz wasn’t entirely sure what she had been expecting.

“You don’t agree with him?” Liz said slowly, wanting to clarify.

“No,” Mr Kaplan said stiffly. “I do not.”

“Then help me,” Liz said almost desperately, just short of pleading to the woman. She leaned forward and braced her hands against the table. She knew Mr Kaplan had the capability to help her get away safely more than anyone else she knew. She also knew that Reddington would never expect one of his own to help her.

“You want to disappear.”

It wasn’t a question, but it was said so matter-of-factly that Liz knew the woman somewhat understood how she was feeling.

Liz nodded. “Am I that obvious?” she muttered, resigned slightly now that the idea had been said out loud. She looked Mr Kaplan directly in the eye, trying to convey everything she couldn’t seem to in words.

Mr Kaplan said nothing, choosing instead to take a sip from her drink. Liz knew that the next words from Mr Kaplan spoke would solidify whether she would be helping her or not. They seemed to sit in silence for an age, Liz biting down so hard on her bottom lip in anticipation the skin split and she was left with the taste of copper in her mouth. Finally, the woman sighed, tapping her fingers against the table.

“It’s what I would want to do.”

The words were said so quietly Liz almost missed them. Her eyes widened slightly, and her mouth dropped open. She took the admission to mean Mr Kaplan would indeed help her. The feeling of an intense weight was lifted from her shoulders instantaneously. She had real and true options now on how to move forward. _That_ was something she had _not_ yet thought about. She hadn’t allowed herself more than a brief, not well thought out, plan on how to go about it, having not truly expected the woman to agree so easily. She bit her lip again, wincing slightly when her teeth grazed the sensitive area.

“I need time to adjust, to get over everything. I need to be able to process everything I’ve learned in the last couple of days… everything I’ve been lied to about my whole life.” Liz could feel tears start to pool but she willed them away. All she seemed to do recently is cry and she didn’t want to anymore. She shook her head, giving the woman a humourless laugh. “I can’t doing that with Reddington knowing where I am every damn second of the day. Knowing he’s keeping tabs on me makes my skin crawl.”

Mr Kaplan pursed her lips. “Are you truly prepared to leave everyone you know and love behind?”

Resslers face instantly popped up in her head. she got on well with her colleagues, would even go as far as call them friends, had a few people she kept in contact with from her time at Quantico and the New York field office. She mostly kept in contact with them through email or Facebook, very rarely meeting with them for dinner or drinks. Most of the people in her personal life she met through Tom, and she no longer knew if she could trust them to be real or just impersonators like him. Ressler was the one true constant in her life. Sure, they’d only known each other for less than a year, and only struck up a true rhythm of partners in the last couple of months but she honestly didn’t know where she would be without him. She trusted him with her life, and she’d like to think he did the same. Maybe she would’ve somehow found out the truth and gotten answer for herself at some point but who knows how far down the line that would have been. He’d been in-tune to what she needed to know and gotten her those answers without her even having to ask. He’d been straight with her, told her everything he knew as soon as the information came through, he didn’t sugar coat it, didn’t lie to her, kept her in the loop because it was her life and she had the right to know. That was the kind of support she needed, _wanted_ … he was the only one she was worried about leaving. She’d miss everyone at the Blacksite, but she knew they could easily go back to life without her. Ressler was different. The thought of leaving Ressler pained her, made her chest ache but… There was a part of her, a big part, that worried if she stayed too close to him, he would end up getting hurt and she didn’t want that. Getting away would be better for her and better for him… she just had to keep convincing herself that was true.

“It’s better for everyone.”

Mr Kaplan regarded her closely, looking her directly in the eye. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Liz had to advert her eyes and look away. Mr Kaplan and her scrutinising look could see right through her. “Can you help me or not?”

“I can and I will,” Mr Kaplan confirmed. Liz could tell the woman wasn’t happy with her response, but she didn’t push the matter and Liz didn’t want to add that to the stress she was already under. Mr Kaplan sighed, drawing Liz’s attention back to her. “Only because you’ll never be safe if Raymond continues the way he does.”

Liz nodded. “Thank you,” she said softly, relieved the woman was still going to help her.

“Give me a week to set everything up, and if you still decide wholeheartedly that this is something you want to do then we’ll move forward.”

Liz agreed and thanked the woman once more, standing up and grabbing her jacket and moving to leave. As she flicked her hair from beneath her collar, Mr Kaplan caught her hand, gripping on to it tightly.

“Don’t make this decision lightly, Elizabeth,” Mr Kaplan said sharply, with more emotion in her voice than Liz had ever heard from the woman before. “You may live to regret it.”

Liz swallowed thickly, saying nothing more as she nodded and made a swift exit. She climbed the stairs as quickly as she could and just short of bolted for the door. The squat woman who showed her in was waiting at the door to show her out. She ushered her out with words Liz thought may be German and all but slammed the door the moment she was over the threshold.

Liz glared at the door for no reason other than to make herself feel better. It didn’t. She buttoned her jacket and dug her hands deep in her pockets. She hated that the last part of the talk with Mr Kaplan had given her more to think about. Deep own, Liz knew she’d have to think about the repercussions for everyone with her decision… she just hoped she’d have more time. She couldn’t get the image of Resslers face out her head. He’d done, and was doing, so much for her. He’s welcomed her into his apartment with open arms. He’d listened to her drawl through everything. He was working his ass off to get to the bottom of everything, doing his job and she was just going to up and leave? There _was_ the possibility of telling him, of letting him in even more but… knowing Ressler as well as she did, she knew he would try to stop her. He’d use logic and tell her the Liz he knew wasn’t a coward, that the Liz he knew would stand tall and fight. With all the lies… she didn’t feel like that Liz anymore. She hoped the overwhelming sense of guilt she was feeling would dissipate.

She walked a few blocks from the café before hailing a cab and rattling off Resslers address to the driver. It rolled off her tongue like it was the most natural thing in the world, the familiarity making her doubt herself once more. She was unable to think about anything else and spent the entire journey agonising over it. Paying the man and making her way into the building, Liz decided she had to push it out of her mind and focus on something else or she was likely to drive herself crazy. She let herself into the apartment and allowed herself a small smile.

“Ress, you home?”

No answer. She didn’t really expect him to be, given the time. She sighed and shook her head; she couldn’t allow herself to think like that. no matter how safe she felt there, it wasn’t hers. She hung up her jacket and kicked off her shoes, going to the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. She pulled her phone from her pants pocket. She wasn’t sure where to be disappointed or not that she had no missed calls her messages. She drank her beer slowly, standing right there in the kitchen leaning against the counter.

Given any normal day, she guessed Ressler wouldn’t be back for a good couple of hours, which would give her time to wind down and relax. She grabbed herself another beer and moved to the sofa. She flicked the TV to a random movie channel and laid down, curled into the cushions. Liz closed her eyes, not expecting to actually fall asleep. She stayed curled in the fetal position until the buzzing of her phone woke her. Blinking to clear the sleep from her eyes, she checked the message only to notice a couple of hours had passed and Ressler would be home in thirty. She sent a reply and decided to jump in the shower quickly before he got there. She grabbed the sweats and sweater Ressler had been letting her sleep in from the bedroom, grabbed a towel and stripped out of that days clothes, adding them to her bag of dirty laundry. She threw her hair in a bun, not wanting to wash it tonight and retreated to the bathroom. Liz turned the shower to the highest heat, not letting the water completely heat before stepping in. she let the water loosen her stiff neck from napping on the couch. After scrubbing the day away, she shut off the water and jumped out, towelling off and changing into the sweats she’d laid on top of the toilet. She wiped the steam build up away from the mirror and stared at her reflection. She didn’t like what she saw. She saw a shell of the woman she thought she was, a shell of the woman that had a steady job, a house, a husband… now she was standing in her friend’s apartment wearing his clothes and her life in shreds around her. She sighed, bracing herself against the sink.

“Liz?”

Liz snapped her head up; Ressler was home.

“Bathroom,” she called out.

She hung the towel she had used on the back door and headed towards the smell of food wafting through the door apartment. Her stomach rumbled – she didn’t realise she was hungry until that moment. Ressler was in the kitchen, dishing take-out on to plates. As if sensing her behind him he nudged a plate across the counter.

“I have dinner.”

“Great, I’m starv-.” Liz cut herself off, having looked up and caught sight of Resslers face. “What the hell happened?”

“I’m fine,” Ressler said quickly, turning back around but not before Liz saw hi wince.

“Fine my ass,” Liz muttered, forcing Ressler to turn back and face her by tugging gently on his arm. “Did you even get herself checked out?”

She reached up and touched his cheek lightly, getting him to turn his head slightly so she could get better look at the bruising along his jaw. She trailed her thumb lightly, following the discolouration and tutting at him with a shake of her head. He turned his face back to her and noted the hastily applied butterfly stitch closing the cut on his lip. She knew the first aid kit in the car was stocked full of them, and knowing Ressler, he would have applied it himself. Liz gestured at his torso and he rolled his eyes, untucking his shirt and lifting it. Liz winced at the dark shadows along his ribcage, fist prints clearly showing. The tips of her fingers barely grazed his skin when he hissed and dropped the hem of his shirt. She raised an eyebrow and gave him a pointed look. He rolled his eyes at her.

“Don’t start on me, Keen, I’ve already had it from Meera. What is it with you two trying to cart me off to the Docs? I’ve seen enough of them to know when I’m _fine_.”

Liz snorted, just like him to play it off as nothing. “We do it because we love you.” The air around them stilled slightly, Liz unable to look him in the eye. She bit her lip, waiting until one of them had to break the silence. A few seconds later Ressler chuckled softly to break the awkwardness settling between them. Liz sighed, waving a hand at him.

“Did you at least ice it?”

Ressler rolled his eyes at her again and gave her a pointed look. “Of course I did, I’m not a complete idiot.”

Liz raised an eyebrow at him, smirking slightly. So you admit you’re an idiot?”

“Shut it, Keen.”

Liz laughed and grabbed their plates, taking them to the breakfast bar while Ressler grabbed them both drinks before joining her. Liz wanted to know what happened and knew Ressler would eventually tell her, so she decided to wait until after they had eaten to push the subject. They sat in comfortable silence, both enjoying the other’s company, though Liz could tell Ressler was actively avoiding catching her eye every time he shifted in his seat to get comfortable. She finished eating and sat there watching him slowly make his way through the last of the food left on his plate. She raised an eyebrow at him when he finally caught her eye. He snorted and shook his head.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

It was said in jest, but Liz pulled her phone from the pocket of the sweats she was wearing and snapped a photo, catching him off guard with a smile tugging at his lips. She saved it and pocketed her phone with a laugh. He turned and smiled fully at her, only for it to fall and turn into a frown a moment later. He cleared his throat and pushed his empty plate away, clasping his hands in front of him, resting his chin on his fists.

“I had a run in with Tom.”

Liz felt as though all the air had been sucked from her lungs, like she’d been sucker-punched in the gut. Whatever she expected him to say, this was not it. “Tom?” Ressler nodded. “You found him?”

“Not on purpose.” Ressler sighed, shifting his whole body to face her. “We got a lead on Maria Lopez; Aram traced her to the airport and then he called when we were en-route to say Tom was there.”

Liz stood abruptly, choosing to pace back and forth in front of him rather than sit still and listen. Ressler let her tread a pattern into his carpet, keeping silent. After a minute or two she rounded on him. “What happened?”

“He made us and took off. I followed and Meera detained Lopez. I don’t know how, but he got to an unused hallway. We fought and he landed a good few punches.” Liz noted the bitterness in his voice. She sighed, lightly gripping on to his shoulder before retaking her seat across from him. “I went down, and he got away. Aram couldn’t find trace of him leaving. I’m sorry, Liz.”

Liz shook her head. “It’s not your fault.” Liz gave a humourless laugh. “I’m sorry you got hurt because of-.”

“If you finish that sentence, I’m gonna smack you.”

Liz let out a surprised bark of laughter, her mood instantly lightening. She had not been expecting that from him. Ressler Grinned at her, apparently pleased with himself from momentarily distracting her enough to calm down and relax slightly. She appreciated it, loved that he was joking around to put her at ease. She still felt as though she should be responsible, and opened her mouth to say as such, only to stop when he challenged her with a look, a glint in his eye. She conceded with a good-natured roll of her eyes and shook her head at him. They sat there, just staring at each other, the air around them shifting slightly, not by much, but enough for them both to notice. Liz sighed, breaking the tension by tearing her eyes away from his.

“Tell me about Lopez; what did she have to say?”

Ressler nodded, shifting in his seat, and dove straight in with telling her about everything they’d discovered when interrogating Maria Lopez. He told her about the son no one knew she had. Liz raised an eyebrow at that, though she’d wait until after he’d finished before asking for clarification. Liz listened intently as he revealed that Lopez and Tom had not been having an affair like they’d initially believed but that she was, in fact, a runner between Tom and Uncle Ricardo. She had been mildly surprised at that (given they were related; it wasn’t implausible that she was involved). What _had_ shocked her though, was the revelation of Reddington’s involvement. Liz swore through gritted teeth, making to stand and start pacing again but halted when Ressler laced his fingers through hers, she looked down at their intwined hands, trying to ignore the warmth spreading throughout her.

“So,” she muttered, refusing to look up. “She’s just another pawn in his giant chess game, one that’s never gonna end.”

Still feeling emotional from earlier in the day. Liz couldn’t stop tears falling. She kept her head low, hoping Ressler wouldn’t notice but, of course, he did. He barely muttered a quick ‘come here’ before he was standing and pulling her up with him. He cradled her to his chest, hissing when she pressed against his bruised ribs but refused to let her pull away. She melted into his touch, relishing in the comfort he offered. She didn’t realise how much she needed it until she had it. It was going to make leaving so much harder.

She let the tears cascade down her cheeks as she thought over everything Ressler had just told her. Maria Lopez had been terrified for her unborn son’s life, had wanted to keep him safe and helped her Uncle believing it to be the only way to do that. Maybe it was. She had no one to help her. Liz couldn’t believe Reddington was involved was involved with her. With everything going on, she hadn’t thought it possible for the puzzle to get any bigger, to become more complicated… as if it weren’t already. She wondered briefly if it were Mr Kaplan that would have created Maria Lopez a new identity and give her the means to disappear… just like she was going to do for her. Liz swallowed down the guilt she was once again feeling.

“At least the boys safe,” she murmured, her voice hoarse. She felt Ressler stiffen and pulled away to look at him. “What?”

“He wasn’t there.” Ressler let go of her – it was his turn to start pacing. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. “The team I had Aram dispatch to the apartment found everyone gone and the place cleared out – no sign it had ever been lived in.”

Liz stood frozen; something wasn’t right. It was too much of a coincidence that the day the FBI picks her up, the son there’s no record of her ever having suddenly goes missing and the place he lived in returned to its pre-rented state. It must have been packed up and the boy moved the moment she was arrested. When Reddington’s involved – everyone’s monitored. She had a theory on who was behind the move, knowing the man, but she needed to know one thing first.

“What about Lopez?”

Liz’s heart sank when Ressler gave a small shake of his head. “The truck we were transporting her out the Post Office in was ambushed – she’s gone.”

Liz swore, throwing herself into the chair she’d sat at to eat. She bit her lip, tilting her head. “Reddington?”

“It could have been,” Ressler said with a shrug. “It seemed a little messy; he’s definitely pulled off cleaner ones. He Uncle may have gotten to her, but we’ve got nothing to prove or disprove those theories. I’m almost certain Reddington had the boy moved though.”

Liz nodded her agreement. “I guess that’s just another thing to add to the list of things I want to ask him tomorrow.”


End file.
